A   BUNDLE    OF   LETTERS 
FROM  OVER  THE  SEA. 


CAUf .  UBRAJtt.  W» 


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A   BUNDLE   OF    LETTERS 

FROM   OVER   THE   SEA 


BY 


3loui£e  22>.  ftobingon 


"  Visions  of  the  days  departed 
Shadowy  phantoms  fill  my  brain  " 


BOSTON 

J.  G.  CUPPLES   COMPANY 
33adt  Bag  Bookstore 

94  BOYLSTON  STREET 
1890 


COPYRIGHT,  1889, 
BY  LOUISE  B.  ROBIXSON. 


All  right*  reserved. 


<Cupple*  pre0tf :  'Boston. 

PRINTED    BY   J.    G.   CUPPLBS   COMPANY. 


DEDICATED  BY  THE  AUTHOR 

€o 


2132485 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 
PREFACE ix 

LETTER  I.  1 

I  am  off.     On  the  sea. 

LETTER  II 13 

Liverpool.     Chester.     Kugby.     Leamington. 
Stratford-on-Avon.  Kenilworth.  Warwick. 

LETTER  III. 29 

London. 

LETTER  IV ...     67 

Paris. 

LETTER  V 127 

Ambrieau.     Geneva. 

LETTER  VI. 143 

Chamouni.     Mer  de  Glace.     Tete  Noire. 

LETTER  VII. 157 

Martigny.     Chillon.     Berne.     Interlaken. 

LETTER  VIII 171 

Lucerne.   Altorf.  The  Rigi.   Zurich.    Schaff- 
hausen. 


viii  CONTENTS. 

FAOB 

LETTER  IX.  .  191 

Strassburg.     Baden  Baden.    Willbad.   Carls- 
ruhe.     Heidelberg. 

LETTER  X. .  217 

Mayence.     Wiesbaden.     The  Bhine. 

LETTER  XI. 233 

Cologne. 

LETTER  XII 247 

Utrecht.     Amsterdam. 

LETTER  XIII 263 

The  Hague.     Kotterdam.     Brussels. 

LETTER  XIV 281 

Antwerp. 

LETTER  XV 291 

On  Shipboard.     New  York.     Boston. 


PREFACE. 

In  presenting  my  little  book  to  the  public, 
I  feel  that  I  should  apologize  for  so  doing, 
instead  of  introducing  it;  for  at  the  time  my 
letters  were  written  I  had  no  idea  of  publish- 
ing them.  Since  my  return,  however,  several 
friends  who  had  read  them  have  assured  me 
that  they  greatly  enjoyed  them,  and  felt  that 
others  would  do  so,  also,  had  they  the  oppor- 
tunity. The  letters  have,  at  least,  the  merit 
of  being  fresh  and  honest  impressions  of  the 
places  described,  as  they  were  written  on  the 
spots.  Remembering  how  eagerly  I  have  al- 
ways read  letters  of  travel,  I  sincerely  hope 


X  PREFACE. 

that  mine  may  prove  a  source  of  pleasure  to 
some  —  to  those  who  have  been  over  the  same 
ground,  and  to  many  who  have  the  pleasure 
in  anticipation.  I  am  aware  that  the  route 
I  describe  is  a  well-worn  thoroughfare,  but 
every  eye  has  its  own  perspective,  and  different 
views  of  the  same  pictures  assist  the  sight-seer 
in  comprehending  the  whole.  Therefore,  I 
here  beg  the  charity  of  all  into  whose  hands 
this  little  book  may  fall. 

L.  B.  R. 

Hotel  Oxford,  Boston, 

December  20,  1889. 


A  BUNDLE  OF  LETTERS 

FROM  OVER  THE  SEA. 


LETTER   I. 

CUNARD   ROYAL  MAIL  STEAMSHIP  Utruria, 
MID-OCEAN,  June  12. 

WELL,  was  not  this  starting  for  Europe  in  a 
hurry?  I  left  Boston  Saturday,  June  9th,  at 
five  A.  M.,  only  deciding  the  day  previous  to 
go.  A  number  of  letters  and  telegrams,  from 
New  York,  urging  me  to  join  a  delightful 
party  who  were  to  make  the  journey,  proved 
to  be  too  much  of  a  temptation  to  accept  the 
change  I  so  much  needed,  to  resist.  For  sev- 
eral previous  seasons  I  have  seen  friends  off, 


2  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

honestly  glad  to  have  them  enjoy  so  much,  but 
after  awhile  enthusiasm  in  the  pleasures  of 
others,  who  enjoy  much  and  leave  you  behind 
to  be  glad  for  them,  grows  dull,  like  cham- 
pagne long  uncorked,  not  much  sparkle  to  it, 
'  for  all  work  and  no  play  makes  Jack  a  dull 
boy.'  A  hurried  packing ;  good-by  letters ; 
messenger  boys  running  here  and  there;  a 
turning  of  the  keys ;  and  I  am  off.  To  my 
maid,  to  the  elevator  boy,  to  the  expressman 
and  the  coachman,  I  excitedly  said, '  I  am  going 
to  Europe,'  but  their  faces  did  not  light  up 
with  delight  as  I  expected  they  would  ;  and  I 
thought  —  How  unappreciative  we  all  are, 
after  all,  of  other  people's  enthusiasm.  The 
train  was  a  slow  one,  but  the  only  one  that 
could  possibly  get  me  to  New  York  in  time  to 
take  the  steamer.  Some  trouble  with  the 
machinery  of  the  engine  detained  us,  and  I 
spent  the  time,  while  the  cars  were  stopped, 
praying  to  be  resigned,  if  I  had  got  to  be  dis- 
appointed, as,  for  a  while,  matters  looked  as  if 
it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  reach  my 
friends  on  the  hour  for  the  ship  to  sail.  But 
prayers  and  the  work  of  an  ingenious  Yankee 


LETTER    I.  3 

mechanic  carried  us  through.  It  Tvas  after 
3  p.  M.  when  we  rolled  into  the  Grand  Central 
Depot.  I  rushed  into  the  nearest  cab  like  one 
mad  —  urged,  coaxed,  and  fee'd  my  driver,  who 
quickly  comprehended  the  situation  and  ran 
his  horses  to  the  best  of  their  speed,  and  did 
get  me  to  the  Cunard  Wharf  about  ten  minutes 
before  the  Etruria  moved ;  but  it  was  in  truth 
a  '  John  Gilpin  ride.'  My  friends  were  on 
the  lookout  with  anxious  eyes,  and,  when  they 
caught  a  sight  of  me,  greeted  my  appearance 
with  shouts  of  delight.  After  the  excitement 
was  over,  we  settled  dow  n  into  an  '  all  right ' 
atmosphere  and  looked  about.  The  sights 
that  met  my  eyes  I  shall  never  forget.  The 
huge  ship  with  the  bright-colored  flags  flying, 
the  hundreds  of  people  crowded  on  her,  hun- 
dreds more  on  the  wharf,  throwing  kisses,  wav- 
ing handkerchiefs  and  adieus,  everybody  loaded 
with  flowers,  many  laughing  and  more  crying. 
*  God  bless  you.  Take  care  of  yourselves. 
Write  soon  and  often/  were  the  oft-repeated 
words  we  heard.  The  planks  are  drawn,  the 
band  struck  up  '  The  Girl  I  left  behind  me,' 
and  off  we  steamed  down  the  beautiful  harbor 


4  A   BUNDLE    OF   LETTERS. 

of  New  York,  fast  leaving  the  shores  of 
America  in  the  distance.  I  thought  of  all  the 
loved  friends  we  were  sailing  away  from,  in 
the  body  but  not  in  spirit,  and  asked  our  dear 
e  Father  in  Heaven  '  to  take  care  of  us  all.  I 
was  tired,  so  dined  early,  settled  things  a  little 
in  our  state-room,  and  retired.  I  went  imme- 
diately to  sleep,  without  a  care,  like  a  weary, 
confiding  child  on  its  mother's  breast,  and  did 
not  once  awaken  until  nine  the  next  morn- 
ing —  Sunday.  My  rest  was  perfect,  thus 
'rocked  in  the  cradle  of  the  deep/  while  the 
waves  sung  to  me  their  sweet  lullaby.  I  arose 
feeling  thoroughly  refreshed  —  rubbed  my 
eyes  well  to  be  convinced  that  I  was  not 
dreaming,  and  that  in  reality  I  was  far  out  at 
sea.  We  have  a  fine  state-room ;  two  wide 
berths  and  a  sofa ;  and  only  F.  and  I  its  occu- 
pants ;  plenty  of  room  for  our  things,  and  two 
looking-glasses ;  so  we  shall  be  sure  to  keep 
amiable  on  this  trip.  The  Etruria  is  a  beauti- 
ful and  an  immense  steamer.  Four  hundred 
persons  make  up  the  crew  and  she  takes  fifty 
engineers.  We  have  a  music  room,  a  library, 
a  large  saloon,  reception  rooms,  dining  room, 


LETTER    I. 


etc.,  all  finely  and  conveniently  furnished  and 
spacious.  We  have  six  hundred  passengers  on 
board,  all  first  class,  and  a  fairly  good-looking 
crowd  notwithstanding  there  are  but  few  from 
Boston.  We  take  no  second  class  passengers 
or  emigrants.  So  far  the  weather  has  been 
charming.  We  settle  ourselves  in  our  steamer 
chairs  in  the  most  deliciously  idle  and  comfort- 
able positions,  E.  tucks  his  numerous  nice  wraps 
about  us,  for  the  air  is  keen  but  most  whole- 
somely pure  and  sweet,  and  we  give  ourselves 
up  both  body  and  mind  to  perfect  rest  and 
repose,  such  as  no  condition  on  land  can  bring. 
I  even  find  myself  wishing  that  the  steamer 
would  not  speed  on  quite  so  rapidly.  I  am  afraid 
we  shall  sight  land  too  soon.  On  shipboard, 
the  slightest  incident  becomes  to  all  a  matter 
of  great  interest.  A  ship  in  the  distance,  or  r 
whale's  back,  will  cause  as  much  excitement  as 
Barnum's  circus  in  a  country  town.  We  have 
seen  two  steamers  far  away,  many  sea-gulls  and 
Mother  Gary's  chickens,  and  a  school  of  por- 
poises followed  us  a  long  distance,  creating 
much  amusement.  We  have  two  dukes  on 
board,  a  real  lord  and  a  lady,  but  they  look 


6  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

very  like  the  rest  of  us  mortals,  and  seem  to 
do  quite  as  much  stretching,  yawning,  walking, 
and  eating.  We  have  met  here  several  old 
friends,  and  have  made  some  new  ones. 
Everybody  seems  inclined  to  be  agreeable  and 
social.  I  cannot  imagine  how  any  one  could 
ever  think  a  sea  voyage  dull.  I  get  so  inter- 
ested in  all  about  me,  that  their  interests  and 
purposes  become  my  own.  A  bright  little 
Cuban  miss  confided  to  me  that  she  was  going 
to  travel  for  a  year,  because  her  rich  father  had 
taken  to  himself  a  new  companion  'younger 
than  herself,  and  she  could  not  stay  at  home 
and  see  the  young  girl  in  her  mother's  place. 
We  have  six  school-girls  on  board  with  their 
chaperone,  and  a  jolly  good  time  they  are  hav- 
ing. School-girls  are  the  same  everywhere. 
A  bride  and  groom  sit  at  table  near  us,  trying 
to  act  as  if  they  had  been  always  married,  but 
are  really  continually  revealing  their  new  con- 
dition. Ah !  '  the  old,  old  story,'  but  ever 
new.  A  gentleman  from  the  West,  who  had 
been  cabled  to  '  hurry  over  —  wife  sick,'  walks 
the  deck  with  a  face  that  tells  of  the  sad  heart 
he  carries.  How  we  all  sympathize  with  him, 


LETTER    I.  < 

and  yet  are  so  helpless  in  comforting  him ! 
We  had  a  fine  concert  in  the  grand  saloon  last 
evening,  for  '  sweet  charity ; '  and  many  of  the 
ladies  honored  the  occasion  by  changing  their 
travelling  dresses  for  evening  costumes.  Mile. 
Zelie  de  Lussan  sang  two  pieces  most  charm- 
ingly, and  on  encore  gave  us  ( Coming  thro' 
the  Rye '  and  *  Dors  mon  ange.J  She  is  a 
great  favorite  with  all  on  board,  and  no  wonder, 
for  she  endeavors  in  her  sweet  way  to  add  to 
the  happiness  of  all.  She  was  enthusiastically 
applauded.  We  had  some  fine  instrumental 
music  on  both  violin  and  piano,  and  (  Tony ' 
Pastor  was  irresistible  in  his  manner  of  render- 
ing several  comic  selections,  and  very  kind  to 
repeat  them  in  acknowledgment  of  hearty 
applause.  Our  young  ladies  passed  around 
the  hats,  into  which  coin  was  quickly  deposited 
to  the  amount  of  over  three  hundred  dollars. 
Rev.  Dr.  H.,  of  New  York,  made  a  few  remarks. 
He  is  a  forcible,  impressive  speaker  and  with 
a  physique  equal  to  our  own  Trinity  Rector. 
He  also  has  exhibited  a  commendable  spirit 
in  helping  make  the  time  pass  agreeably  for 
all  with  whom  he  has  come  in  contact.  Editor 


8  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

P.  is  also  amongst  us,  leaving  his  *  New  York 
World'  behind  for  a  time,  but  not  under  a 
bushel.  Our  table  and  the  service  are  excel- 
lent :  and  what  gormandizers  we  are  to  be 
sure  !  Hungry  as  sharks  every  meal,  notwith- 
standing the  hourly  extras  of  bouillon  and 
crackers  on  deck,  and  the  daily  treats  from  our 
own  boxes  of  iruit,  wine,  and  bon-bons.  If 
any  one  should  now  ask  me  '  What  is  the  chief 
end  of  man  ?'  I  should  honestly  answer,  To  eat 
of  all,  at  least,  on  board  our  ship.  Poor  E. 
looks  upon  his  chest  of  medicines  for  sea-sick- 
ness as  a  lost  investment ;  stocks  way  down  — 
not  even  a  shadow  of  an  excuse  yet  for  open- 
ing it.  Miss  C.,  the  noted  beauty,  is  on  board, 
but  her  fair  face  is  closely  enveloped  in  veils, 
that  the  sun  and  wind  may  not  be  too  familiar. 
One  loses  much  not  to  take  the  whole  of  this 
blessed,  invigorating  air,  and  look  out  unham- 
pered on  the  exquisite  sky  and  cloud  effects 
above  us,  and  the  artistic  blending  of  blues 
and  greens  on  the  waves  beneath. 

Liverpool,  England,  June  17,  1888.  —  We 
first  saw  land  yesterday  morning,  very  early. 
It  was  a  perfect  morning,  clear  and  warm,  and 


LETTER    I. 


when  we  emerged  from  our  state-room  and 
made  our  way  on  deck,  we  found  the  greater 
portion  of  our  comrades  ahead  of  us,  with  their 
glasses  in  hand,  peering  toward  the  rocky  coast 
of  not  far  away  '  Old  Ireland/  It  is  a  rough, 
rugged  shore,  with  here  and  there  a  light- 
house, built  as  if  to  last  for  ages,  on  rocks, 
strong  and  high,  and  all  colored  white  with 
some  black  trimmings.  Occasionally  an  old 
castle  is  seen.  The  fields  of  flax,  colored  with 
all  the  shades  of  green,  are  very  beautiful,  and 
add  much  to  vary  the  scene. 

We  have  had,  as  one  of  our  daily  compan- 
ions crossing  over,  an  Irish  gentleman  of  much 
intelligence  and  culture.  He  is  a  large  land- 
holder, and  has  a  fine  home  not  very  far  from 
Dublin  ;  has  been  travelling  some  in  America, 
but  mostly  in  the  Western  States.  I  have 
gained  much  information  from  him  of  his 
country  and  its  people.  He  was  amazed  at 
the  extent  of  our  own  land,  but  with  all  his 
intelligence  could  not  comprehend  everything 
connected  with  our  divisions  of  country  clearly, 
and  said  to  me  — '  Boston,  that  city  is  very 
near  Massachusetts,  is  it  not  ? '  He  admired 


10  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

American  ladies,  and  thought  '  Mrs.  Cleveland 
should  reign  in  Washington  longer.'  His 
brogue  was  fascinating,  and  he  talked  much 
of  the  Pot-o-mac  River. 

In  speaking  of  the  poor  of  his  country,  I  did 
not  hesitate  to  ask  him  how  he  and  gentlemen 
of  his  kind  could  endure  having  the  poor  so 
oppressed  by  the  rich  landlords  ;  that  to  me  it 
seemed  most  cruel.  With  a  sympathetic  sigh 
he  replied,  '  If  you  will  visit  me,  I  will  show 
to  you  more  than  I  can  tell  you/ 

Our  big  steamer  stopped,  for  the  first  time, 
for  the  passengers  who  were  booked  for  the 
1  Green  Isle '  to  get  on  to  the  little  tug  which 
came  puffing  down  from  Queenstown,  and  we 
said  good-by  to  many  of  our  fellow-voyagers 
reluctantly.  A  large  mail  was  thrown  on 
board  also  for  Ireland,  carrying  undoubtedly 
happiness  and  help  into  many  homes. 

On  again  we  started,  and  reached  Liverpool 
at  one  o'clock  A.  M.  We  certainly  had  a  per- 
fect trip  over,  and  the  Etruria  and  her  watch- 
ful, careful  commander,  Captain  Cook,  will  have 
ever  a  grateful  place  in  my  memory.  Blessed 
be  the  gift  of  memory !  The  one  thing  that 


LETTER    I.  11 

holds  precious  treasures  that  cannot  be  taken 
from  us ;  from  which  we  can  at  all  times  sum- 
mon the  delights  and  joys  of  the  past,  without 
money  and  without  price. 


LETTER  II. 

WE  landed  at  seven  A.  M.  Were  detained  but 
a  short  time  at  the  Custom-house.  The  ordeal 
of  examining  luggage  there,  proved  much  less 
than  we  expected;  one  pleasant  official,  re- 
marking that  he  did  not  wish  to  disturb  my 
nicely  packed  bags,  would  pass  them  over  if  I 
would  swear  that  I  had  no  tobacco  or  cigars. 
Hasty  good-bys,  cards  and  kisses  exchanged, 
and  we  were  soon  whirled  to  our  hotel  —  the 
Adelphi.  What  a  transition  !  We  have  nice 
rooms,  and  a  pretty  maid,  with  a  deini-trained 
white  cambric  dress  on,  to  wait  upon  us,  look- 
ing as  fresh  as  a  daisy.  After  breakfast,  we 
went  to  drive  about  the  city,  the  largest  sea- 
port in  the  world.  The  docks  are  many  miles 
in  length.  We  visited  the  museum,  St.  George's 


14  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

Hall,  and  looked  into  one  or  two  churches. 
The  city  looks  solid  and  business-like,  but  not 
attractive.  The  suburbs  are  more  so,  and  have 
fine  trees.  No  more  horse-cars  for  us,  but 
trams,  with  seats  on  top,  which  we  very  much 
like.  After  luncheon,  we  crossed  the  Mersey 
in  a  ferry,  to  Birkenhead,  and  there  took  steam 
cars  for  Chester,  thirty  miles  away.  Chester  ! 
old,  odd,  quaint,  red-walled  Chester !  We 
hurried  to  the  Cathedral,  to  be  in  time  for 
service,  which  proved  to  be  a  choral  one,  of 
great  beauty  and  sacredness,  and  the  first 
words  that  greeted  us  were  sweetly  sung,  and 
impressed  us  in  a  stronger  way  than  ever  did 
the  same  words  before  :  — 

'  Jesus  shall  reign  where'er  the  sun 
Doth  his  successive  journeys  run; 
His  kingdom  stretch  from  shore  to  shore, 
Till  moons  shall  wax  and  wane  no  more.' 

Of  this  cathedral  you  have  read  many  descrip- 
tions, and  yet  one  can  have  but  little  idea  of 
it  without  seeing  it.  As  I  sat  in  the  chancel, 
and  looked  about  me,  I  felt  as  if  I  belonged 
to  the  past.  There  seemed  to  be  a  spirit  of  an- 
tique rest  and  repose  pervading  the  whole  inte- 


LETTER    II.  15 

rior.  After  service,  we  peeped  into  the  nooks 
and  corners  of  the  old  church,  and  then  out 
into  the  rich  balmy  air  of  this  perfect  day  in 
June,  and  walked  on  the  old  wall  which  was 
built  to  protect  the  town.  We  looked  from 
the  windows  of  the  tower,  where  Charles  I. 
stood  and  saw  his  army  defeated  by  Cromwell. 
How  many  reminiscences  of  our  lessons  in 
history  at  school  these  old  towns  bring  up ! 
An  open  carriage  stood  near  us,  into  which  we 
jumped,  and  were  driven  through  the  grounds 
and  to  the  home  of  the  Duke  of  Westminster, 
who  is,  I  believe,  the  richest  man  in  England. 
As  it  was  Sunday,  we  could  not  be  admitted  to 
the  palace,  but  enjoyed  the  drive  through  the 
perfect  grounds  immensely.  The  town  con- 
tains a  beautiful  park,  in  which  is  a  fine  statue 
of  the  father  of  the  present  duke.  The  nar- 
row streets  and  the  odd-looking  old  houses  in 
the  oldest  part  of  the  town  were  intensely 
attractive  to  me,  so,  leaving  the  rest  of  my 
party  to  wander  in  the  park,  I  strolled  off 
alone.  I  pulled  the  latch-string  of  a  little 
house,  and  a  kindly  faced  old  lady  appeared. 
I  asked  for  some  water,  and  she  urged  me  to 


16  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

come  in  and  rest,  and  I  lingered  a  long  time, 
so  interesting  to  me  were  her  tales  of  Chester, 
where  she  had  all  her  life  lived,  not  even  hav- 
ing been  so  far  away  as  (  Lunnon  town.'  The 
custom  of  ringing  what  used  to  be  the  (  cur- 
few bell '  is  still  kept  up.  A  bell  rings  at 
nine  P.  M.,  and  if  maids  are  out  alone  after  that 
hour  they  may  be  arrested.  i  A  good  custom 
it  is,'  said  the  old  lady ;  '  God  made  the  night 
to  sleep,  and  not  for  gadding.'  Back  to 
Liverpool,  and  good-by  to  E.  He  remains 
here,  and  we  go  to-morrow  to  Leamington 
Spa. 

June  18.  —  At  seven  A.  M.  we  left  Liverpool. 
The  morning  was  a  perfect  one,  and  our  train 
ran  slowly,  perhaps  purposely  that  we  might 
see  beautiful  old  England.  And  beautiful  it 
is  !  Such  green  fields,  such  magnificent  trees, 
such  hedges,  ivy,  hawthorn,  and  a  tangled 
mass  of  sweetbrier  and  wild  rose.  Houses 
covered  with  ivy  and  roses.  Roses  in  bloom 
everywhere,  little  plots  of  ground  around  the 
stations  filled  with  roses  —  red,  white,  and  yel- 
low, their  sweet  fragrance  pouring  into  the 
windows  of  our  car.  The  flocks  of  sheep,  the 


LETTER    IT.  17 

herds  of  cattle  in  the  fields  and  meadows, 
resting',  or  cooling1  their  feet  in  silver  streams. 
O  how  beautiful  this  all  is !  The  blue  sky  of 
to-day  seems  so  near  us.  Glimpses  of  cathe- 
drals and  palatial  homes  greet  us.  The  fields 
of  wild  poppies  and  wheat  add  brilliancy  to  it 
all.  Surely  we  must  be  in  the  highly  culti- 
vated, most  beautiful  part  of  England  !  But 
no,  it  is  all  the  same.  There  are  no  rough 
spots  in  England,  no  stony  pastures,  no  broken 
fences :  it  is  all  a  beautiful  garden  from  one 
end  to  the  other.  F.  says  almost  too  {  spick 
and  span ; '  but  to  me,  perfection.  Our  first 
stop  was  at  Rugby.  Ascertaining  that  we 
must  remain  there  two  or  three  hours,  and 
remembering  '  Tom  Brown,'  we  set  out  to  see 
the  world-renowned  school.  Its  buildings  are 
large  and  castle-like.  Any  man  who  has  re- 
sided in  the  county  two  years  is  entitled  to  send 
his  sons  to  the  school,  to  be  educated  free  of 
expense.  There  is  a  pretty  chapel  here,  and 
in  the  transept  a  monument  to  the  revered 
Dr.  Thomas  Arnold.  One  of  the  stained-glass 
windows  is  also  in  memory  of  him,  and  the 
words  beneath  it  seemed  to  me  particularly 
touching  and  appropriate  :  — 


18  A    JJUNDLH    OF    LKTTKES. 

'And  Jesus  said  unto  him,  Thomas,  because  thou 
hast  seen  me  thou  hast  believed :  blessed  are  they  who 
have  not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed.' 

The  name  of  Arnold  seems  to  be  revered  by 
every  one  in  Rugby,  and  his  best  monument  is 
the  school  for  which  he  did  so  much.  He 
buried  creeds  and  lived  by  the  Golden  Rule. 

Our  next  halt  was  at  Leamington,  and  here 
we  are,  feeling  quite  like  citizens.  The  town  is 
crowded  with  visitors,  and  we  were  most  for- 
tunate in  finding  rooms  at  a  small  hotel  which 
had  just  been  vacated  by  Americans.  This 
town  is  a  health  resort  and  a  fashionable  and 
popular  one.  There  are  four  medicinal  springs, 
each  one  different  from  the  others  in  remedial 
properties.  The  streets  of  the  town  are  broad, 
shaded  by  grand  old  trees  that  form  perfect 
arches  for  long  distances.  The  residences  are 
immense  and  very  handsome,  some  quite  pala- 
tial;  but  seeing  *  To  Let'  on  many  of  them, 
we  came  to  the  conclusion  that  they  were  too 
expensive  for  the  owners  to  live  in,  but  were 
afterwards  told  that  the  richest  and  most  culti- 
vated people  of  the  place  rent  their  houses  for 
almost  fabulous  sums,  for  the  months  of  May 


LETTER    II.  19 

and  June,  and  take  that  time  to  travel  them- 
selves, on  the  Continent.  Near  the  royal  pump- 
room,  at  the  beautiful  Jephson  Gardens,  on  the 
banks  of  the  river  Learn,  in  the  little  parks,  in 
the  streets,  and  everywhere  else  here,  we  see 
bath-chairs  on  wheels  —  people  of  all  ages,  from 
infants  to  aged  men  and  women,  being  drawn 
in  them  by  their  servants.  I  thought  at  first 
they  must  all  be  invalids  from  some  cause,  but 
it  seems  not :  many  are  being  trolled  about  in 
this  manner  for  enjoyment.  The  drives  in  the 
town  and  about  its  suburbs  are  of  unrivalled 
beauty.  We  stood  under  the  shade  of  a  large 
oak  tree,  said  to  be  in  the  very  centre  of  Eng- 
land. From  here  we  made  an  excursion  to 
Stratford,  which  town  has,  if  possible,  an  older 
look  than  Chester.  We  asked  a  little  girl  to 
direct  us  to  the  church  where  Shakespeare  Avas 
buried.  She  looked  somewhat  frightened,  and 
answered,  '  He  is  not  buried ;  he  keeps  store 
down  that  way.'  It  was  evident  the  little  tot 
was  not  Stratford-born.  We  sauntered  along, 
and  soon  met  a  gentleman  who  gave  us  the 
desired  information.  Walking  through  a  beau- 
tiful avenue  of  lime  trees,  we  soon  reached  the 


20  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

church.  In  the  chancel  is  the  tomb  of  Shake- 
speare. A  bust  of  the  great  poet  is  on  the 
wall,  and  there  is  a  flagstone  bearing  the 
inscription  familiar  to  all :  — 

'  Good  friend,  for  Jesvs  sake  forbeare 
To  digg  the  dvst  encloased  heare : 
Bleste  be  ye  man  that  spares  thes  stones. 
And  curst  be  he  that  moves  my  bones.' 

The  church  is  very  old,  —  a  cruciform,  with 
central  tower  and  spire ;  and  some  portions  of 
the  old  carvings  attracted  our  attention.  I 
was  much  disappointed  with  the  expression  of 
the  face  of  the  bust :  it  looked  as  if  the  great 
man  felt  nauseated,  and  the  atmosphere  of 
the  church  made  me  feel  intensely  so,  so  close 
and  musty  was  it ;  so  out  into  the  air  we  gladly 
went.  We  strolled  about  in  the  churchyard 
for  a  while,  looking  at  the  old  stones  and  read- 
ing the  queer  epitaphs.  On  one  were  these 
words,  after  the  name  of  a  wife,  her  age,  and 
time  of  decease :  e  The  Lord  has  done  great 
things  for  us,  whereof  we  are  exceeding  glad.' 
I  doubt  that  widowed  husband  being  able  to 
win  wife  number  two.  The  house  where  the 
poet  was  born  is  a  little  old  structure  of  wood 


LETTER    II.  21 

and  plaster,  but  well  preserved.  The  walls  of 
several  of  the  rooms  are  entirely  covered  with 
names  written  by  the  sight-seers  who  have 
visited  them.  How  strange  but  how  true  it  is, 
that  real  genius  nearly  always  springs  from 
homes  of  poverty !  Everything  in  the  town 
has  a  Shakespearian  flavor.  The  fine  fountain 
presented  by  our  own  countryman,  George  W. 
Childs,  is  a  beautiful  offering.  The  Shake- 
speare Memorial  Buildings,  in  the  form  of  a 
theatre,  are  very  elegant,  and  contain  some  fine 
pictures.  F.  left  me  to  enjoy  the  interior  of 
this  new  edifice,  saying  to  '  look  for  her  on  the 
banks  of  the  Avon,'  and  when  I  did  so,  found 
her  sleeping  in  a  boat,  on  the  immortalized 
waters,  with  the  willow  trees  on  the  banks 
throwing  their  shadows  over  her.  One  can 
scarcely  help  feeling  tinges  of  romance  and  sen- 
timent here,  this  river  has  been  so  sweetly  sung 
of;  and  yet  it  is  a  very  unpretentious,  quiet, 
narrow:  stream ;  but  memories  of  the  Bard  of 
Avon  linger  in  every  spot. 

We  were  shown,  at  the  Red  Horse  Hotel,  the 
rooms  which  were  occupied  by  our  own  Wash- 
ington Irving  during  his  visit  here,  and  in  the 


22  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

parlor  was  the  *  Sexton's  Clock'  which  he 
refers  to  in  the  '  Sketch  Book.'  We  have 
seen  the  oddest  names  in  England,  for  inns 
and  boarding-houses,  imaginable,  such  as  the 
Pied  Bull,  The  Elephant  and  the  Castle,  The 
Turtle  and  the  Lamb,  The  Pig  and  the  Whistle, 
The  Hole  in  the  Wall,  and  The  Struggling 
Man.  Now  the  English  are  not  wise  in  the 
selection  of  such  names.  For  my  part,  I 
should  look  farther  for  a  stopping  place.  I 
would  not  care  to  try  to  rest  in  The  Hole  in 
the  Wall,  or  to  be  protected  by  The  Struggling 
Man. 

We  visited  New  Place,  Shakespeare's  home, 
and  the  Guild  Chapel  close  by,  and  ended  the 
day  by  taking  a  short  drive  through  some  of 
the  quaint  streets  and  the  green  lanes  of  this 
reposeful,  historical,  and  beautifully  situated 
Stratford,  whose  whole  atmosphere  seems  to  be 
that  conducive  to  pure,  high  thoughts,  spiritual 
exaltation,  rest,  and  peace.  We  returned  to 
Leamington  in  time  for  a  pleasant  evening 
drive,  after  a  fair  dinner. 

June  ~L9th. — We  slept  well,  and  took  an  early 
breakfast,  then  started  for  Kenihvorth  Castle. 


LETTER    II.  23 

It  was  a  glorious  morning*.  Where  are  the 
clouds  and  fogs  of  England  ?  We  have  yet  seen 
none,  and  the  road  we  were  driven  over  was 
beautiful.  The  pastoral  scenes,  made  up  of 
pretty  homes,  cultivated  fields,  and  flowers  and 
ivy  everywhere  before  and  around  us,  made  us 
eagerly  drink  all  in  as  a  sweet  nectar.  And, 
more  than  all,  the  entire  way  was  clothed  with 
historic  interest.  We  could  easily  imagine 
Queen  Elizabeth  and  her  lords  and  ladies 
dashing  along  over  this  very  ground  in  regal 
splendor.  The  castle  is  a  ruin,  but  a  grand 
one.  It  stands  on  a  high  hill  surrounded  by  a 
wall  and  moat,  the  former  now  down  in  many 
places  and  the  moat  dry.  The  walls  of  the 
castle,  sixteen  feet  through,  are  now  covered 
with  a  luxuriant  growth  of  ivy,  so  thick  that 
the  length  of  my  long-handled  parasol  was 
lost  in  the  mass  of  dark-green  leaves.  When 
I  look  at  this  ivy  and  think  of  my  little  one  at 
home,  that  I  have  carefully  tended  for  years, 
and  yet  it  is  no  thicker  now  than  a  jellyfish,  I 
do  not  think  much  of  English  ivy  torn  from 
its  mother  soil.  The  numerous  turrets  and 
towers  are  also  covered  with  the  same  vine,  and 


24  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

are  homes  for  hundreds  of  ravens.  It  is 
owing  to  the  works  of  Scott  that  this  old 
castle  is  of  such  famous  interest.  As  we 
wandered  from  cells  to  banquet  halls,  we  re- 
called the  revellings  and  grandeur  in  the  latter, 
and  the  groans  in  the  former  that  could  not 
reach  the  ear  of  mortals.  In  the  ball-room  we 
thought  of  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  who  ordered 
all  clocks  stopped  that  Elizabeth  should  take 
no  note  of  time.  And  at  the  entrance  of  the 
deep,  dark  dungeon  we  sighed  for  the  suffering 
Amy.  But,  had  we  stayed  in  the  ruins  much 
longer,  ruined  financially  should  I  have  been, 
for  the  several  i  gentlemen,'  who  seemed  to  be 
looking  at  the  same  objects  and  with  the  same 
interest  as  myself,  and  of  whom  I  asked  ques- 
tions, proved  to  be  guides  or  informers,  and 
expected  their  shillings.  '  How  could  I  have 
known  it?'  I  exclaimed  as  F.  advised  me  not 
to  talk  so  much.  Well,  I  fear  it  is  true  that 
in  this  country,  if  we  ask  a  question,  we  must 
generally  pay  for  the  answer.  '  Pity  'tis  'tis 
true.' 

Adieu  to  Kenilworth,  and  on  to  Warwick, 
which  is  of  itself  a  village  of  considerable  size. 


LETTER    II.  25 

Warwick  Castle  is  the  finest  baronial  residence 
in  all  England.  The  approach  to  it  is  charm- 
ing. We  passed  under  the  arched  and  massive 
gateways  into  a  winding  avenue  cut  out  of 
solid,  unbroken  rock,  and  on  which  the  castle 
itself  is  built ;  each  side  the  rocks  tower  far 
above  our  heads  and  are  covered  with  ivy  and 
other  vines,  and  oh  so  cool  and  beautiful  it 
looks ;  so  refreshing  to  us.  All  at  once,  and  at 
an  unexpected  turn,  the  magnificent  castle  is  in 
sight.  The  lawn  in  front  of  it,  with  its  rare 
plants  and  parterres  of  gorgeous  blossoms,  the 
sparkling  fountains,  and  the  many  peacocks 
strutting  about  on  the  velvet  sward,  with  their 
gay  plumage  spread  to  its  utmost  extent,  as  if 
for  our  especial  admiration,  almost  dazzled  us. 
We  paused  to  take  in  the  scene  before  us, 
exhausting  our  vocabulary  of  adjectives  in 
expressions  of  delight.  Every  feature  of  the 
aspect  was  bright,  winning,  and  delightful. 
Some  aristocratic  terriers  were  grouped  under 
the  shade  of  a  white  lilac,  as  if  holding  coun- 
cil. Dignified  swans  were  lazily  swimming  in 
the  lake,  and  the  red  and  gold  uniformed 
Guards  seemed  perfectly  satisfied  to  spend  the 


26  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

rest  of  their  lives  in  slowly  pacing  up  and 
down  the  gravelled  walks.  The  castle  is  in 
complete  preservation,  and  its  long  list  of  halls, 
libraries,  and  drawing-rooms  are  filled  with 
rare  objects  of  beauty  and  interest,  of  great 
value.  The  guide  who  showed  us  through  the 
rooms  carried  himself  in  a  most  stately  manner  : 
his  backbone  was  surely  made  of  iron,  and 
ran  up  to  the  top  of  his  head  to  hold  on  his 
bushy  wig,  for  he  could  not  bend  his  body  or 
turn  his  neck.  Not  hearing  one  of  his  ex- 
planations in  regard  to  a  mosaic  table,  formerly 
owned  by  Queen  Elizabeth,  I  asked  him  what 
he  said.  This  'Grand  Mogul '  slowly  whirled  his 
entire  breadth  toward  me,  and  articulated  in  a 
monotone  these  words,  i  The  explanation  I 
have  once  rendered.'  I  said,  '  I  am  sorry  I  did 
not  comprehend  it,  but,  as  you  are  here  for  the 
purpose  of  explaining,  will  you  please  tell  me 
the  story  of  the  table  again.'  F.  was  dazed, 
but  the  man  changed  his  superior  attitude,  and 
from  that  on  through  the  entire  castle  he  gave 
me  his  devoted  attention.  In  one  of  the  halls 
is  a  wonderful  table,  entirely  formed  of  precious 
stones,  which  once  belonged  to  the  ill-fated 


LETTER    II.  27 

Queen  Marie  Antoinette.  Statues  and  original 
busts  of  many  old  warriors  and  kings  are  here. 
There  is  a  red,  a  gilt,  and  a  cedar  drawing- 
room,  all  filled  with  really  magnificent  paint- 
ings. I  took  great  interest. in  studying  the 
portraits  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  the  Earl  of 
Leicester,  and  others  who  participated  in  the 
gay  life  led  near  this  spot. 

In  the  grounds  are  Guy's  and  Caesar's 
Towers,  and  in  one  of  the  greenhouses  we  saw 
the  celebrated  Warwick  Vase,  which  was  found 
in  the  bottom  of  a  lake  in  Rome,  as  long  ago 
as  1770,  I  think.  The  Earl  and  family  live 
here  a  part  of  the  year,  but  are  now  in  London. 
This  estate  must  bring  the  Earl  quite  a  revenue, 
as  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  persons  visit  it 
every  day,  and  each  one  leaves  a  shilling  or 
more. 

Near  the  castle  gate  is  the  house  where 
Walter  Savage  Landor  was  born,  and  this 
whole  Warwickshire  is  rich  in  the  genius  it 
has  given  to  the  world.  Green  and  Drayton 
opened  their  eyes  on  its  illustrious  soil,  and 
George  Eliot,  whose  talent  has  enriched  this 
here  first  saw  light.  How  can  one  feel 


28  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

like  a  common  mortal,  or  lead  an  everyday 
life  in  a  country  like  this,  so  hallowed  with 
historic  and  artistic  associations. 

'  Step  out  of  the  past  now  into  the  present,' 
said  F.,  '  and  I  will  tell  you  a  story  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  and  Queen  Mary.  Did  I  ever  tell  it 
to  you?' 

1 1  do  not  recollect  any  such  story  that  you 
ever  told.  Was  it  a  good  one  ? ' 

<0  yes!' 

(  Then  you  never  told  it.'  I  did  not  get  the 
story. 

Not  far  from  the  castle  is  a  cathedral  of  con- 
siderable pretensions,  after  visiting  which,  we 
were  driven  back  to  Leamington,  having  spent 
a  most  delightful  day.  Finding  that  an  ex- 
press train  would  get  us  to  London  to-night, 
we  paid  our  bills,  took  our  bags,  bade  good-by 
to  the  pretty  Spa  and  our  pleasant  landlady, 
and  were  soon  off. 


LETTER  III. 

EDWARDS  HOTEL,  GEORGE  ST.,  HANOVER  SQ., 
LONDON,  June  20. 

OUR  rooms  we  had  telegraphed  for,  so  upon 
reaching  the  city  we  had  nothing  to  do  but 
enter  a  cab  and  be  driven  to  them.  We  have 
homelike  accommodations,  and  our  meals  served 
in  our  own  private  parlor.  Everything  in  the 
house  is  so  quiet  that  I  did  not  know  but  we 
had  made  a  mistake  and  got  into  a  retreat  for 
the  deaf  and  dumb.  F.  thinks  it  fine,  but  I 
must  say  that  when  I  am  at  a  hotel  I  like  the 
bustle  and  excitement  of  one. 

The  ( office '  is  a  small  room,  presided  over  by 
two  pretty  young  ladies,  who  I  imagine  look 
upon  us  as  intruders,  but  I  talk  at  them  so 
much,  they  are  obliged  to  speak  occasionally, 


30  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

although  it  seems  an  effort.  They  drop  their 
h's.  and  I  am  sometimes  puzzled  to  understand 
the  little  information  they  condescend  to  give 
us. 

'  Boots/  too,  is  equally  taciturn  so  far :  I 
think  we  shall  have  to  be  more  liberal  with 
our  English  shillings  ! 

We  hire  our  rooms  here  at  a  fair  price,  and 
make  extra  arrangements  for  our  meals.  For 
breakfast,  F.  desired  boiled  eggs,  and  I  chose 
fried.  Upon  asking  why  my  bill  was  more 
than  hers,  I  was  told  that  it  was  more  work  to 
fry  eggs  than  to  boil  them,  and  that  is  so.  I 
look  in  vain  for  ice-water :  there  is  surely  none 
around.  I  ask  for  some ;  and  after  waiting 
long  enough  for  water  to  freeze,  am  served 
with  a  pitcher  of  water  and  a  few  small  bits  of 
ice  in  a  glass.  The  Yankee  ice-pitcher,  kept 
well  filled,  is  an  article  unknown  here. 

Out  into  the  streets  of  London  !  What  a 
crowd,  what  a  bustle !  What  fine-looking 
gentlemen,  every  one  with  a  button-hole  bou- 
quet !  The  streets  crowded  with  handsome 
turnouts  dashing  quickly  along;  why,  we  can- 
not cross  the  streets  without  assistance.  Bos- 


LETTER    III.  31 

ton  is  a  quiet  village  compared  to  this.  Groups 
of  ladies,  and  rosy-cheeked  girls  laughing  and 
chatting,  all  wearing  flowers  ;  even  the  horses 
raid  carriages  are  trimmed  with  them.  Lines 
of  hansoms,  with  generally  a  lady  in  each. 
Little  children,  with^  overpowering  big  hats 
and  bonnets,  trotting  along  with  their  nurses. 
Showily  uniformed  Guards  as  thick  as  flies  at 
a  summer  hotel,  —  and  this  is  London  to-day. 
Here  is  St.  George's  Church,  where  so  many 
of  the  aristocracy  have  taken  each  other  for 
better  or  for  worse.  And  here  in  Hanover 
square  is  a  fine  bronze  statue  of  William  Pitt. 
It  looks  to  me  like  extraordinary  good  work, 
but  F.  calls,  i  Come,  you  cannot  spend  much 
time  cogitating  over  any  one  man  in  this  big 
place,  dead  or  alive.  If  you  want  to  solilo- 
quize over  statues,  come  to  St.  Paul.'  And 
to  St.  Paul's  we  went.  There  are  but  two 
churches  in  the  world  larger  than  this :  St 
Peter's  at  Rome  and  the  Cathedral  at  Milan. 
As  I  tried  to  realize  its  immense  proportions 
before  entering,  I  thought  of  the  Yorkshire- 
man  who  brought  his  better  half  to  see  the 
sights  of  London.  '  There,  lass,'  said  he, 


32  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

1  there  be  Paul's  Church.  Ecod,  he  be  a  soiz- 
able  one,  he  be.'  And  we  agreed  with  him  long 
before  we  finished  seeing  the  interior  and  its 
contents.  There  are  many,  many  monuments, 
and  some  exceedingly  costly  and  beautiful,  but 
it  is  utterly  impossible  to  comprehend  so  much 
at  once.  Some  of  the  sculptures  of  the  church, 
telling  the  touching  story  of  the  incarnation 
and  life  of  our  Saviour,  were  sadly  beautiful, 
especially  the  figure  of  Mary  with  the  child  in 
her  arms,  and  the  ideal  figure  of  the  '  Risen 
Christ.'  The  ornamentations  of  the  church 
are  greatly  in  gilt  and  marble,  but  the  most 
of  the  latter  material  looked  as  if  it  needed 
'  scrubbing.'  The  huge  organ,  which  seemed 
to  be  built  on  both  sides  of  the  choir,  was 
being  tested  by  some  noted  organist;  so  we 
had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  its  rich,  full, 
exquisitely  musical  tones. 

Next  we  visited  the  Royal  Exchange  and 
the  Bank  of  England ;  then  made  our  way  to 
the  '  Tower,'  where  kings  and  queens  once 
lived,  and  where  many  lost  their  heads.  Just 
after  entering  the  gates,  a  Guard  approached 
us,  and  without  any  apology  or  hesitation  said, 


LETTER    III.  33 

'  Will  you  tell  me  the  name  of  the  man  who 
ran  with  Cleveland  for  president.'  As  soon  as 
we  could  recover  ourselves,  we  gladly  gave  him 
the  desired  information,  without  expecting  the 
usual  shilling  we  pay  for  asking  a  question 
here.  But  we  were  astonished  that  he  should 
have  so  quickly  recognized  us  as  Americans, 
without  hearing  our  voices.  He  returned  to 
his  comrade,  and  they  evidently  resumed  their 
interrupted  conversation. 

The  '  Tower  of  London '  is  now  something 

O 

of  a  historic  museum.  The  room  containing 
the  real  Crown  jewels  was  of  much  interest  to 
me.  Queen  Victoria's  crown  is  there,  which 
she  wore  at  her  coronation  and  has  worn  sev- 
eral times  since,  on  state  occasions.  It  is  a 
large,  high  crown,  principally  of  gold,  with  a 
narrow  strip  of  ermine  about  the  lower  edge. 
The  upper  portion  is  completely  studded  with 
precious  stones,  a  blazing  mass  of  diamonds, 
emeralds,  and  rubies.  Many  other  crowns  and 
ornaments  are  here,  all  containing  jewels 
beyond  value.  They  were  indeed  a  sight  to 
behold,  and  really  a  delight  to  the  eye.  But 
before  entering  the  ground,  in  the  street 


34  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

beyond,  a  weary,  sunken-eyed  woman,  with  an 
emaciated  child  in  her  arms,  asked  me  for 
enough  money  to  buy  some  bread.  As  I 
looked  upon  that  scene  and  upon  this,  I  felt 
the  meaning  of  the  words  which  my  maid  at 
home  uses  when  matters  do  not  suit  her, 
1  There  is  a  screw  loose  somewhere.'  Or  per- 
haps over  here  the  screw  is  too  tight.  We 
went  into  the  different  rooms  and  towers  where 
so  many  royal  prisoners  suffered.  In  the 
Beauchamp  Tower  we  found,  amongst  the 
many  inscriptions  on  the  wall,  the  word  l  Jane/ 
supposed  to  have  been  placed  there  by  the 
gentle,  ill-starred  Lady  Jane  Grey.  We  saw 
dungeons,  the  bloody  tower,  the  green  where 
Anne  Boleyn  and  many  others  were  executed ; 
and  all  these  places  were  so  steeped  with  mon- 
strous, cruel  deeds  that  it  was  a  relief  to  turn 
away  from  them  and  shake  off  the  terrible 
memories. 

We  somehow  felt  heavy-hearted,  and  F. 
decided  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  see  a  dif- 
ferent extreme,  and  take  a  look  at  (  wax  rig- 
gers/ The  underground  railway,  our  first  ride 
of  the  kind,  soon  carried  ns  to  Madame  Tus- 
saud's  museum. 


LETTER    III.  35 

These  railways  are,  after  all,  not  so  very  dif- 
ferent from  railways  above  ground.  There  are 
so  many  stations  where  the  daylight  streams 
in,  that  one  does  not  have  time  to  realize 
entire  darkness.  And  what  tremendous  space, 
thoroughly  availed  of,  these  stations  give  for 
advertisers.  I  feel  very  familiar  already  with 
most  of  the  stores,  from  these  advertising  hills 
that  stare  us  so  conspicuously  in  the  face. 

Madame  Tussaud  was  really  an  artist,  and 
modelled  greatly  in  clay  and  wax.  For  a  long 
time  she  lived  at  the  Tuileries  and  at  Ver- 
sailles, as  companion  for  noted  porsonages  of 
the  Court.  She  was  highly  educated,  and  pos- 
sessed large  means,  but  the  Revolution  com- 
pelled her  to  leave  France.  Having  lost  her 
property,  she  began  to  exhibit  her  '  figures,' 
and  from  that  beginning  has  grown  this 
large  collection.  A  figure  of  Voltaire,  made 
by  her  from  life,  is  simply  wonderful.  The 
entire  collection  is  much  superior  to  the  col- 
lection in  the  Eden  Musee,  New  York,  and 
although  some  subjects  are  made  to  appear 
somewhat  ridiculous,  the  most  are  life-like  and 
excellent.  The  murdered  queens  distressed 


36  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

us  ;    the  wax  ones  have  cheered  us  :    and  now 
for  a  ride  in  the  open  air ! 

We  took  outside  seats  on  a  tram,  and  rode 
to  the  National  Museum.  I  delight  in  these 
top  seats  ;  we  get  such  unobstructed  views  of 
everything  about  us. 

We  remained  in  the  museum  until  the  hour 
for  closing,  but  only  saw  a  vast,  immense 
accumulation  of  everything  heard,  unheard  of, 
or  dreamed  of. 

How  singular  many  of  the  expressions 
we  hear,  sound  to  us.  Lemonade  is  called 
lemon-squash  ;  the  price  of  an  article  is  the 
tariff ;  ticket-offices  are  booking-rooms ;  and 
baggage,  luggage  always.  The  money  gave 
me  some  annoyance  at  first,  but  I  now  gener- 
ally know  what  is  the  correct  change  to  give 
or  to  receive,  but  have  one  coin  on  hand 
which  puzzles  me :  all  that  I  can  see  on  it  is  — 
1  Thanks  be  to  God  and  to  Victoria.'  I  can- 
not quite  decide  the  value  of  it. 

June  2~Lst.  —  Early  this  morning  we  saun- 
tered toward  St  James's  Park,  noting  the  fine 
residences,  —  Marlborough  House,  the  home  of 
the  Prince  of  Wales  and  family,  included.  It 


LETTER    III.  37 

is  a  plain,  large  building,  dreary  looking ;  and 
our  free  to  go  and  come  American  girl  says, 
'  I  am  thankful  I  am  not  a  princess.  What 
a  stupid  time  those  girls,  Louise,  Maud,  and 
Victoria  must  have,  shut  up  behind  those  walls 
without  ever  being  able  to  take  a  walk  with 
"  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry  "  unattended.' 

An  English  lady  told  us,  at  our  hotel,  that 
there  is  a  rumor  that  the  Princess  Louise  is 
very  much  in  love  with  an  English  Earl  much 
older  than  herself.  These  girls  are  said  to  be 
all  very  plain  looking,  inheriting  none  of  the 
graces  of  their  beautiful  mother,  who  seems  to 
be  greatly  beloved  by  all  the  English  people, 
and  whose  unfortunate  deafness  excites  heart- 
felt compassion  and  sympathy. 

The  houses  in  London,  even  homes  of  the 
greatest  simplicity,  are  named,  and  the  names 
are  generally  placed  where  they  can  be  plainly 
seen  and  read.  The  names  of  the  residences 
of  the  nobility,  as  well  as  many  names  of  the 
streets,  often  give  us  a  clue  to  their  founders, 
and  are  therefore  appropriate  and  helpful. 

The  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  are  now 
in  Germany,  on  account  of  the  death  of  the 


38  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

Emperor  Frederick,  the  husband  of  the  oldest 
sister  of  the  Prince.  The  entire  royal  family 
are  of  course  in  deep  mourning.  In  fact,  two 
thirds  of  all  the  people  here  are  now  dressed  in 
black.  Our  little  chambermaid,  at  our  hotel, 
did  not  appear  this  morning  as  early  as  usual 
to  give  us  her  service,  and  when  she  made  her 
appearance  I  asked  her  if  she  was  ill.  She 
replied :  *  Not  at  all,  but  we  have  been  ordered 
into  Court  mourning,  and  I  sat  up  late  to  get 
my  black  dress  made,  so  felt  very  weary,  and 
slept  late.' 

We  soon  found  ourselves  near  the  military 
quarters,  where  we  stopped  to  see  the  Grena- 
diers, the  Queen's  Guard,  parade  and  drill,  and 
to  listen  to  the  fine  music  of  the  band. 

Buckingham  Palace  is  quite  near  enough 
to  Marlborough  House  for  Alexandra  to  run 
over  to  her  mother-in-law,  Mrs  Guelph,  to  bor- 
row her  spoons,  in  case  her  own  number  should 
be  insufficient  for  any  little  tea  party,  or  for 
the  good  grandmother  to  be  called  if  the  chil- 
dren should  unexpectedly  { come  down '  with 
the  chicken-pox  or  the  measles ;  it  looks  as  if 
it  might  be  a  real  social  neighborhood.  The 


LETTER    III.  39 

exterior  of  the  palace  is  of  light-colored  stone, 
but  not  nearly  as  fine  a  building  as  we  had 
expected  to  see,  as  the  principal  residence  of 
the  Queen.  The  family  had  left  for  Windsor 
the  day  before.  We  were  shown  the  royal 
stables  and  saw  the  state  coach.  These  royal 
residences  do  not  impress  us  as  being  in  the 
least  remarkable.  They  are  immense  in  size, 
but  possess  no  merits  in  the  way  of  architect- 
ure. 

This  part  of  London  is  very  beautiful, 
with  its  handsome  streets  and  soft  green-turfed 
parks. 

We  continued  our  walk  to  Westminster 
Abbey,  and  entered.  If  palaces  have  not 
come  up  to  my  expectations,  this  far  exceeds 
them.  The  church  is  huge,  built  in  the  form 
of  a  Latin  cross,  a  great  pile  of  grandeur. 
The  interior  is  indeed  most  beautiful,  and  one 
might  spend  weeks  within,  and  yet  feel  that 
the  half  had  not  been  seen.  Such  a  succes- 
sion of  wonderfully  beautiful  monuments  and 
memorials  to  the  distinguished,  illustrious,  and 
talented  dead.  As  works  of  art,  this  exquisite 
sculpture  delighted  my  eye  more  than  anything 


40  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

I  had  ever  seen.  Kings  and  queens  lie  here, 
statesmen  and  historians,  generals  and  philoso- 
phers, inventors  and  poets,  and  the  remains  of 
many  that  were  great  on  earth,  and  the  beau- 
tiful marble  covers  them !  But  oh,  I  know  I 
would  rather  lie  like  the  poorest  peasant  under 
the  greensward,  where  the  sun  could  shine  on 
my  resting-place.  The  reclining  statue  of  the 
wife  of  Dean  Stanley  is  lovely  beyond  descrip- 
tion. The  angelic  expression  of  the  beautiful 
sweet  face  seems  to  tell  us  that  she  has  found 
rest  in  her  (  Father's  mansion '  and  is  satisfied. 
How  short  a  time  ago  does  it  seem  that  I 
heard  the  Dean  in  our  own  Trinity.  His  body 
now  rests  here.  The  words  inscribed  on  the 
monument  in  memory  of  Franklin,  the  Arctic 
explorer,  were  sadly  touching :  so  simple,  and 
yet  so  full  of  meaning :  — 

0  ye  Frost  and  Snow !' 
0  ye  Ice  and  Cold  ! 

In    the   Poet's   Corner   lies   the  mouldering 

o 

dust  of  Thackeray,  Southey,  Milton,  Chaucer, 
Dickens,  and  many,  many  others,  whose  works 
will  live  forever,  and  whose  words  and  char- 
acters will  carry  companionship  and  comfort 


LETTER    III.  41 

into  many  a  household,  as  do  the  lines  of 
our  own  Longfellow,  of  whom  his  English 
admirers  have  here  placed  a  beautiful  bust. 
It  is  of  pure  white  marble,  and  the  likeness 
excellent.  It  stands  between  the  monuments 
of  Cowley  and  Dryden.  Some  one  had  placed 
a  fresh  red  rose  in  the  folds  of  the  drapery, 
probably  some  American,  sight-seeing  like  our- 
selves, and  it  all  brought  our  home  so  near  to 
me  that  tears  came  unbidden 

'  Then  the  forms  of  the  departed 

Enter  at  the  open  door : 
The  beloved,  the  true-hearted, 
Come  to  visit  me  once  more.' 

And  now,  even  in  this  temple  of  the  dead, 
how  sure  we  feel  (  There  is  no  death ;  what 
seems  so  is  transition.'  A  magnificent  monu- 
mental chapel,  with  costly  statues  and  sculp- 
tures, surmounts  the  tomb  of  one  of  the 
Henrys.  Many  other  chapels,  in  memory  of 
saints,  are  also  here,  with  aisles  and  transepts 
filled  with  monuments.  The  beautiful  rose 
window  and  the  marigold  window  are  worth 
crossing  the  ocean  to  see.  But  of  the  number- 
less wonderful  things  here  I  must  not  now  tell 


42  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

you  much  more,  only  will  tell  you  that  the  Cor- 
onation Chair  we  have  touched,  in  which  have 
been  crowned  all  the  English  sovereigns  from 
Edward  the  Confessor  to  Queen  Victoria.  I 
reluctantly  left  this  sacred  building  impressed 
deeply  with  its  wonders. 

We  next  went  to  a  gorgeous  restaurant  to 
dine,  fully  coming  to  the  realization  that  we 
are  still  in  the  flesh.  These  London  restaur- 
ants are  a  surprise  to  us,  in  the  quantity  of 
excellent  food  they  give,  well  cooked  and 
served,  for  very  little  money.  I  never  before 
knew  the  real  meaning  of  a  good  mutton  chop, 
for  we  get  none  in  America  like  these  over 
here.  The  whitebait,  here  considered  so 
great  a  delicacy,  I  do  not  '  hanker '  for  — 
should  rather  have  a  '  Taunton  herring.' 

After  dining,  we  visited  a  collection  of  paint- 
ings, an  annual  exhibition  by  English  artists. 
After  looking  about  there,  we  went  to  the 
exhibition  of  the  Royal  Academy  of  Arts, 
which  gave  us  great  pleasure.  The  Royal 
Academy  is  a  private  society,  and  from  its 
fund  supports  a  fine-art  school ;  and  the  judges 
of  paintings  connected  with  the  Academy  are 


LETTER    III.  43 

considered  so  perfect  in  their  estimates,  that  it 
increases  the  money  value  greatly  of  a  picture 
if  accepted  by  them  and  hung  at  their  exhibi- 
tions. We  were  told  that  on  an  average 
ten  thousand  pictures  are  sent  them  for  every 
annual  exhibit,  but  rarely  over  two  thousand 
are  accepted.  This,  of  course,  causes  some 
hard  feeling  amongst  the  artists.  A  portrait 
of  Sir  William  Jenner,  physician  to  the  Queen, 
by  Frank  Holl,  R.  A.,  was  most  life-like. 
Many  portraits  by  Herkomer  were  also  excel- 
lent, particularly  one  of  his  aged  father  and 
his  own  young  sons.  One  painting,  named  '  A 
Hopeless  Dawn,'  by  Bramley,  attracted  me 
greatly.  It  portrayed  the  full  meaning  of  the 
quotation  from  Ruskin :  '  Human  effort  and 
sorrow  going  on  perpetually  from  age  to  age ; 
waves  rolling  forever,  and  winds  moaning,  and 
faithful  hearts  wasting  and  sickening  forever, 
and  brave  lives  dashed  away  about  the  rattling 
beach  like  weeds  forever ;  and  still,  at  the 
helm  of  every  lonely  boat,  through  starless  night 
and  hopeless  dawn,  His  hand  who  spreads  the 
fisher's  net  over  the  dust  of  the  Sidonian  pal- 
aces, and  gave  into  the  fisher's  hand  the  keys 


44  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.'  Besides  the  oils 
and  water-colors,  the  collection  of  miniatures, 
etchings,  drawings,  engravings,  and  sculpture, 
all  exceptionally  fine,  gave  us  a  rare  pleasure. 
We  here  met  the  first  large  assemblage  of 
Londonites  that  we  have  seen.  The  elite  of 
society  were  present,  and  many  noted  persons 
pointed  out  to  us.  The  ladies  do  not  dress  as 
well  as  our  own  Americans,  but  I  must  give 
precedence  to  the  English  gentlemen  for  both 
good  looks  and  style,  courtly  manners  and 
taste  in  costumes. 

Having  occasion  to  be  near  the  Houses  of 
Parliament,  we  thought  we  would  utilize  time 
by  going  in  then  and  there.  But  how  to  get 
in?  We  had  not  taken  time,  as  yet,  to  call 
upon  Mr.  Phelps  for  letters,  as  we  had  meant 
to  do  later,  having  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
our  Minister  from  a  personal  friend  of  his  and 
our  own.  '  But  time  in  London  is  precious,' 
said  F.,  '  so  let  us  try.'  Parliament  was  in 
session,  and  being  earnestly  anxious  to  see  its 
workings,  we  screwed  our  courage  to  its  utmost 
tension  and  proceeded.  After  battling  with  a 
half-dozen  Guards  and  coaxing  another  half- 


LETTER    III.  45 

dozen,  we  found  ourselves  inside  the  Lobby. 
An  immense  concourse  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men were  in  the  corridors,  waiting  their  turn 
to  be  admitted,  and  our  chances  without  a 
pass  began  to  look  rather  doubtful.  How- 
ever, with  true  Yankee  pluck  I  looked  over 
the  faces  of  the  officials,  and  finally  settled 
upon  an  amiable-appearing  one,  belonging  to 
a  '  Sergeant-at-arms '  and  approached  him  — 
told  him  our  situation,  and  appealed  to  him 
for  aid.  He  was  every  inch  a  gentleman,  and 
evidently  anxious  to  assist  us.  Told  us  the 
only  possible  way  to  get  in  was  to  send  our 
card  to  a  member.  Yes,  but  we  only  knew 
names  of  members,  unfortunately;  not  one 
personally.  Lowering  his  voice  he  said,  '  I 
have  a  brother  inside,  an  official :  give  me 
your  cards;  I  will  send  them  to  my  brother 
to  give  to  Hon. .  He  is  the  cham- 
pion and  the  favorite  of  all  ladies,  and  never 
refuses,  at  any  sacrifice,  to  do  them  a  favor.' 
We  wrote  '  Boston,  U.  S.  A.,'  in  the  corner 
of  our  pasteboards  (which  is,  we  find,  a  good 
place  to  hail  from),  and  they  went  from  us 
to  seek  their  fortune  and  ours.  Word'  soon 


46  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

came   back,  brought    by   a    handsome    page, 

that  Mr. was  then   delivering   a   speech, 

but  would  see  us  soon.  We  waited  some  time, 
with  much  about  us  to  take  our  attention, 
when  a  Guard  called  in  stentorian  tones,  '  The 

Hon.  Mr. .'    We  arose  as  we  were  told  to  do 

by  our  new-found  ally,  and  saw  approaching  us 
a  small,  pleasant-faced  gentleman,  who  imme- 
diately extended  his  hand  with  words  of  wel- 
come, as  if  we  were  expected  guests.  To  the 
kind-hearted,  gallant,  and  courteous  Irish  M. 
P.  shall  we  ever  be  grateful !  A  way  was 
made  for  us  into  the  gallery  of  the  chamber  of 
peers,  from  which  we  had  a  good  view  of  the 
brilliant  show  below.  Many  ladies  were  pres- 
ent on  the  benches,  mostly  peeresses  or  rela- 
tives of  nobility.  Later,  our  kind  escort  sent 
for  us  to  take  seats  in  the  ladies'  gallery  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  which,  not  without 
difficulty,  he  had  secured.  We  realize  the 
great  honor  of  being  here,  and  yet  it  is  a  good 
deal  like  sitting  up  in  an  organ  loft,  or  being 
placed,  front  side  out,  in  a  bread  toaster,  for 
we  are  separated  from  the  M.  P.'s  by  metal 
spokes.  The  reporters  have  a  place  under  us, 


LETTER   III.  47 

and  the  members  occupy  the  other  galleries 
and  the  three  or  four  hundred  seats  about  the 
tables.  A  member  was  speaking,  but  his 
enunciation  was  so  poor  that  I  failed  to 
understand  him ;  so  spent  the  time  in  looking 
about.  Gladstone  was  present,  but  did  not 
speak  ;  I  had  a  very  good  view  of  him.  He 
does  not  look  at  all  '  John  Bullish,'  in  the  old 
sense  of  the  expression,  but  is  a  refined,  mod- 
est-looking gentleman,  with  rather  a  tired-out 
air  about  him.  A  number  with  wigs  and 
gowns,  some  stiff-appearing  functionaries 
wearing  garbs  that  looked  as  if  they  were 
prepared  for  the  stage,  many  pages  rushing 
hither  and  thither,  the  buzz  of  voices,  and  the 
hand-clapping,  all  made  a  bewildering  scene. 
It  seemed  very  much  out  of  keeping  with  the 
usually  ceremonious  proceedings  of  the  Com- 
mons, to  see  the  members  costumed  in  perfect 
evening  dress,  wearing  their  hats. 

In  the  House  of  Lords  the  throne  is  the 
chief  object  of  interest,  and  the  peers,  upon 
entering,  always  salute  it,  I  presume  as  some- 
thing of  a  compliment  to  royalty.  It  contains 
three  seats :  the  middle  .one  is  the  Queen's, 


48  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

the  right-hand  one  that  of  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  and  the  one  on  the  left  has  not 
been  allowed  to  be  occupied  since  the  death  of 
Prince  Albert.  When  the  Lord  Chancellor 
takes  his  seat  in  this  room,  he  wears  a  red 
gown,  an  ermine  mantle,  a  big  wig,  and  a 
three-cornered  hat.  We  thanked  our  new- 
made  friend  for  his  unusual  kindness,  for  he 
really  seemed  determined  to  make  us  feel  that 
showing  us  about  was  the  greatest  pleasure 
of  his  lifetime,  and  we  left  the  Houses  at  ten 
p.  M.,  with  the  workings  going  on  as  lively  as 
if  just  commenced. 

I  think  the  manners  of  a  Massachusetts 
legislative  body  superior  in  dignity  to  those 
of  the  members  of  the  House  of  Commons. 
But  who  under  the  gilded  dome  on  Beacon 
Hill  would  give  himself  as  much  trouble  to 
entertain  a  strange  English  lady,  as  our  mem- 
ber took  upon  himself  to  entertain  us !  Do 
not  all  speak  at  once,  gentlemen. 

Friday,  June  22nd.  —  The  clerk  of  the 
weather  will  come  in  rightfully  for  his  share 
of  praise,  for  another  bright  morning  greets 
us.  We  took  an  early  start  for  the  National 


LETTER    III.  49 

Gallery.  Turner  has  here  the  most  of  his 
works.  Some  of  his  paintings,  although  not 
considered  as  masterly  as  his  Slave  Ship,  please 
me  better,  but  it  seems  to  me  he  delights 
in  capricious  methods  in  the  use  of  his  brush. 
It  is  a  treat  to  our  eyes  to  see  the  originals  of 
Landseer,  Rosa  Bonheur,  and  other  works  of 
artists  which  have  become  familiar  to  us  from 
engravings.  One  of  Raphael's  Madonnas  is 
here,  and  long  held  our  attention.  London 
is  full  of  artists,  and  in  the  galleries  we  see 
hundreds  of  students  copying,  and  some  excel- 
lent work  they  do.  Here  lives  Herkomer, 
who  was  with  us  at  one  time,  also  Millais,  Sir 
Frederick  Leighton,  Alma  Taderna,  and  others 
whose  talent  has  brought  them  large  for- 
tunes. The  chimes  ring  out  our  hour  for  leav- 
ing, although  our  time  here  has  not  been  half 
long  enough.  I  love  these  chime  bells !  And 
nearly  all  of  the  churches  have  them,  and 
sweetly  do  they  sound  their  pretty  airs. 

A  drive  of  about  four  miles  brought  us  to  the 
exhibition  of  the  Royal  Military  Tournament. 
The  pavilion  contained  an  aristocratic  audience, 
and  the  good  horsemanship  of  the  soldiers,  on 


50  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

their  handsome  and  well-trained  animals,  was 
a  novel  sight.  A  lady  sat  next  me  with  her 
two  little  girls  and  their  maid.  The  children 
had  material  enough  in  their  bonnets  to  have 
covered  them  all  over  comfortably,  but  their 
legs  were  bare  to  the  knees  and  looked  cold, 
for  the  wind  had  changed,  and  a  damp  draught 
chilled  us.  I  offered  part  of  my  lap-wrap  to 
the  little  ones,  and  the  mother  kindly  thanked 
me,  but  added,  '  They  do  not  need  it  if  only 
their  heads  are  warm ;  they  cannot  take  cold ; 
one  never  takes  cold  in  the  legs,  you  know.' 
And  undoubtedly  English  mothers  all  agree 
with  her,  for  the  children's  limbs  are  univer- 
sally unprotected  from  the  weather.  They 
wear  heavy  shoes  but  short  stockings.  I  have 
already  come  to  the  opinion  that  it  is  not  of 
much  use  to  differ  with  the  English.  If  we  do, 
differently  from  them,  they  feel  a  little  sorry 
for  us  that  we  do  not  know  the  better  way, 
which  is  always  their  way. 

This  evening  we  went  to  the  Covent  Garden 
Theatre  to  hear  Minnie  Hauk,  in  i  Carmen.' 
Not  wishing  to  take  time  to  get  into  full  dress, 
we  changed  our  hats,  substituting  pretty, 


LETTER    III.  51 

light-colored  evening  ones,  and  added  fresh, 
sweet  roses  to  our  costumes,  and  started, 
and  thought  our  appearance  would  do  our- 
selves and  all  else  credit.  But  to  our  dis- 
comfort, opinions  differed,  and  we  could  not  be 
admitted  to  our  box  without  leaving  our  pretty 
head-gear  outside,  where  they  had  no  chance 
of  being  seen  and  admired.  After  getting 
comfortably  seated,  we  looked  about  us.  The 
ladies  were  dressed  as  if  for  a  grand  ball,  silks, 
satins,  velvets,  and  tulles,  of  every  color,  com- 
posed the  gowns,  invariably  made  decollete  — 
1  much,  more,  and  most '  decollete.  Gentlemen 
were,  of  course,  all  in  dress  suits,  and  every  one 
wearing  and  carrying  flowers.  It  was  indeed  a 
brilliant  scene,  but  I  like  the  more  modest  cos- 
tuming of  our  own  countrywomen,  in  public 
places,  better.  Displays  like  this,  it  seems  to 
me,  should  be  made  only,  if  at  all,  at  private 
gatherings.  The  setting  of  the^opera  and  the 
music  were  superb.  Hauk's  voice  has  improved 
wonderfully  since  heard  in  America  some  years 
ago.  She  is  a  great  favorite  here,  and  many 
of  the  aristocracy  were  of  the  audience,  and  a 
loudly  enthusiastic  one  it  was.  All  the  prin- 


52  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

cipal  artists  were  deluged  with  flowers,  and 
Hauk  received  a  laurel  wreajth  of  solid  gold 
leaves  at  the  close  of  the  last  act.  Prices  to 
first-class  entertainments  here  are  higher  than 
in  America,  and  programmes  have  to  be  paid 
for  always.  They  employ  young  women  as 
ushers.  Between  acts,  ices  and  cool  drinks  are 
brought  to  the  audience,  but  a  round  price  is 
asked  for  them.  We  lingered  to  see  the 
people  more  distinctly  as  they  left  their  seats. 
The  ladies  lack  the  grace  and  beauty  of 
Americans,  but  look  bright,  rosy-cheeked,  and 
healthful,  but  the  gentlemen  are  certainly 
superior  in  looks,  carriage,  and  physique.  Our 
little  newsy  chambermaid  tells  us  the  London 
gentlemen  all  wear  l  stays.'  I  wonder  if  they 
do! 

Saturday,  June  23tZ.  —  What  an  immense 
city  London  is,  to  be  sure !  Twenty  niTes 
long  or  more,  and  just  as  bustling  at  one  end 
as  the  other.  There  is  such  a  mass  of  every- 
thing that  it  is  almost  overpowering.  To-day 
we  have  been  driven  through  some  of  the  best 
and  some  of  the  worst  streets  in  the  city.  We 
saw  '  The  Old  Curiosity  Shop,'  and  many  other 


LETTER    III.  53 

spots  immortalized  by  Dickens.  We  have 
looked  into  some  of  the  old  churches  and  some 
of  the  new  ones.  Have  been  into  the  best 
stores,  and  there  are  many  fine  ones.  We  find 
furs  and  silks  cheaper,  and  cottons  dearer  than 
at  home.  We  could  not  find  a  pair  of  French 
kid  boots  of  a  good  shape  in  all  London,  and 
rubber  overshoes  are  not  kept  at  all.  We 
walked  across  London  Bridge  to  take  a  look 
at  the  river,  crowded  with  barges,  boats,  ships, 
and  water-craft  of  every  make  and  shape.  We 
took  luncheon  at  the  Holborn  Restaurant,  and 
thought  we  had  stepped  into  a  palace,  so 
sumptuous  were  the  surroundings.  It  was 
very  pleasing  to  take  our  bouillon  on  a  mosaic 
table,  surrounded  with  Carrara  marble  statuary, 
and  listening  to  the  strains  of  lulling,  restful 
music. 

After  replenishing  the  'inner  man,'  we 
boarded  a  little  steamer  for  a  sail  up  the 
Thames.  The  banks  of  the  river  are  full  of  in- 
terest. The  water  of  the  lower  part  is  thick  and 
muddy,  and  I  should  think  that  even  a  desperate, 
would-be  suicide  would  turn  from  it  disgusted. 
As  we  go  up  farther,  where  the  shipping  is  less, 


54  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

it  becomes  clearer.  Excursion  steamers,  barges, 
and  yachts,  freighted  with  humanity,  are  busily 
plying  up  and  down,  and  the  bridges  open 
gracefully  to  let  us  pass.  The  river  itself, 
with  the  Victoria  Embankment  on  the  one 
side  and  the  Albert  Embankment  on  the 
other,  the  fine  buildings,  the  parks,  and  the 
noble  trees,  all  seen  through  the  rich  atmos- 
phere of  this  perfect  June  day,  make  a  pic- 
turesque and  enjoyable  impression,  not  soon  to 
be  forgotten. 

We  landed,  on  our  return,  where  we  could 
take  a  carriage  for  Hyde  Park.  As  we  are  in 
London  '  in  the  season,'  in  the  Park,  about  five 
p.  M.,  we  see  all  the  '  swelldom '  driving  and 
riding,  for  it  is  here  they  take  their  airing. 
The  Park  itself  is  lovely,  with  large,  perfect 
roads  and  walks,  grand,  magnificent  old  trees, 
plump,  clean  sheep  and  graceful  deer  grazing 
contentedly,  as  well  they  may  in  such  quarters. 
The  kaleidoscope  views  of  the  interminable 
throng  in  the  l  Drive  '  and  the  ( Row,'  the 
fine  horses,  the  gorgeous  equipages,  the  showy 
liveries,  and  the  gay  toilettes,  are  bewildering. 
Here  surely  is  abundance  of  style.  Here  are 


LETTER    III.  55 

hundreds  of  elegant  turnouts,  many  with  armo- 
rial bearings,  fours-in-hand,  sixes-in-hand,  dog- 
carts, T-carts,  tandems,  and  phaetons  ;  footmen 
and  coachmen  in  livery  of  red  and  white,  and 
red  and  gilt,  some  with  wigs  and  some  without. 
Here  comes  a  pony  carriage  with  a  load  of 
laughing  children,  there  an  antiquated  yellow- 
bodied  ducal  coach,  with  postilions  well 
powdered  and  the  dowagers  inside  looking 
powdered  also ;  a  low  buggy  with  a  light- 
blue  body,  and  a  blue-ribboned  girl  with  ( her 
young  man '  beside  her  looking  into  her  blue 
eyes ;  a  black  carriage  hung  high,  footmen 
and  coachmen  in  black,  and  the  ladies  within 
draped  in  crape.  And  this  is  Hyde  Park ! 
Solemnity  and  gayety  !  Prince  and  commoner 
meet,  and  all  are  lookers  on.  The  boats  on 
the  Serpentine,  and  that  wonderful  pile  of 
marble  and  bronze,  the  Albert  Memorial,  next 
attracted  us.  The  marble  groups  representing 
the  four  great  nations,  and  the  bas-reliefs  of 
great  artists  and  poets,  are  fine.  Although 
London  is  so  immense  and  so  crowded,  its  peo- 
ple have  plenty  of  beautiful  breathing  spots, 
more  beautiful  than  the  people  of  any  other 


56  A   BUNDLE    OF   LETTERS. 

city,  unless  the  Parisians.  To  our  hotel  to 
dress  and  out  to  dinner,  our  first  dinner  here 
with  friends. 

Our  visit  in  a  London  home,  last  evening, 
was  delightful,  we  were  so  cordially  welcomed 
and  so  hospitably  entertained.  The  house, 
in  one  of  the  best  streets  of  the  city,  was  a 
large,  square  one  with  hall  in  the  centre.  The 
rooms  were  spacious,  with  dark  finishings 
and  furnishings,  therefore  not  wearing  the 
cheery  look  of  our  own  homes.  The  massive- 
ness  of  the  elaborately  carved  furniture 
seemed  to  overshadow  heavily  the  very  few 
ornamental  articles  displayed.  There  were  no 
paintings  on  the  walls,  but  a  small  gallery  in 
the  rear  of  the  house  contained  a  good  collec- 
tion. The  effect  of  the  living  rooms  without 
the  bright,  living  faces  would  have  been  some- 
what sombre.  I  think  a  happy  medium  would 
be  desirable,  a  little  more  bric-a-brac  in  Euro- 
pean homes  and  a  little  less  in  our  own,  in 
which  I  have  often  had  to  navigate  carefully 
to  avoid  running  against  ornamental  articles. 
The  English  people  are  at  their  best  under 
their  own  '  fig-tree.'  They  build  homes  for  a 


LETTER    III.  57 

lifetime,  and  for  their  children  and  grandchil- 
dren after  them.     They  make  but  few  changes 
in  them,  and  the  women  particularly  stay,  or 
'  stop '  as  they  would  say,  the  greater  portion 
of  their  lives  in  their  homes,  for  as  a  people 
they   travel   but   little.     They   are   very  hos- 
pitable after  once  having  been  introduced,  and 
entirely  at  ease  in  entertaining,  as  an  English 
household  is  rarely  without  its  guests.      Our 
host,  an  M.   P.,  has  a  house  in  the  country, 
and  they  only  spend   the   ( season '   in  town. 
The  English  greatly  love  the  country  and  out- 
of-door  life  and  sports.     Several  friends  of  our 
entertainers  had  been  invited  to  meet  us,  and 
we  found  them  all  very  gracious  and  charming. 
I  think  the  English  are  a  good  deal  like  a 
Devonshire  pie,  —  wearing  a  thick  crust,  but 
when  once  the  crust  is  broken  the  ( goodies '  are 
unusually  delicious.     Our  menu  at  dinner  con- 
sisted of  soup,  fish,  entree,  roast-beef,  chicken, 
and  desert,  with  wines  and  coffee.     No  carving 
was  done  at  the  table.     The  vegetables  were 
brought   in   served  in   individual   dishes.     By 
the  way,  no  vegetables  are  palatably  prepared 
in  England,  for  they  are  never  seasoned.     The 


58  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

English  keep  many  servants,  and  at  this  din- 
ner there  seemed  to  be  a  servant  for  every 
guest.  The  English  are  great  eaters,  but  they 
take  plenty  of  time  to  do  it  in.  The  general 
appearance  of  the  setting  of  the  table  was  not 
different  from  our  own  home  tables ;  perhaps 
more  flowers,  and  more  beautiful  ones.  I 
mention  these  details  to  show  you  that  din- 
ners informal  here  do  not  vary  much  from  the 
same  in  America.  Our  pleasant  evening  with 
Mr.  M.  and  his  lovely  family  will  long  be 
remembered. 

Sunday.,  June  24:th.  —  No  London  fog  yet ! 
We  have  had  but  one  unpleasant  day  since  we 
have  been  here.  To-day  is  simply  perfect. 
There  is  a  '  shimmer '  about  these  lovely  June 
mornings  that  can  be  felt  but  not  described. 
Out  with  the  crowd  of  churchgoers  go  we, 
and,  to  the  credit  of  the  English  people  be  it 
said,  they  all  go  to  church.  We  first  went  to 
old  St.  Giles'.  Here  we  saw  the  tomb  of  Mil- 
ton. What  a  safe,  homelike  feeling  it  brings 
us  to  hear  in  far-away  lands  our  precious 
church  service.  Somehow  it  gives  us  a  sense 
of  security,  of  encouragement,  such  as  a  child 


LETTER    III.  59 

in  the  dark  feels,  when  he  hears  his  mother's 
voice. 

From  St.  Giles'  we  wandered  into  a  church 
near  by,  where  a  young  man  was  preaching  to 
a  large  congregation.  From  his  fine  presence 
and  good  voice,  we  hoped  to  hear  also  a  good 
sermon  —  but  were  disappointed.  He  seemed 
to  suppose  the  Creator  knew  but  little,  and 
that  it  was  his  duty  to  inform  Him:  he  told 
Him  of  the  needs  of  London,  and  especially  of 
the  wants  of  his  churchpeople.  The  only 
good  part  of  the  service  was  the  music. 

Later,  we  seated  ourselves  on  a  Thames 
steamer,  which  had  evidently  put  on  its  Sun- 
day dress,  and  sailed  up  to  Kew.  I  can  give 
to  you  no  description  of  these  beautiful  gar- 
dens. They  contain,  I  believe,  the  largest  con- 
servatories in  the  world.  The  ferns  and  the 
palms  were  forests  of  cool,  green  loveliness. 
The  Victoria  Regia  lily  is  here,  in  unsurpassed 
beauty.  We  wandered  off  into  a  shady,  retired 
nook,  and  seated  ourselves  on  the  grass,  a  lovely 
sheet  of  water  in  front  of  us,  birds  trilling 
their  vespers  about  us,  and  the  myriads  of  blos- 
soms wafting  to  us  their  fragrant  incense.  It 


60  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

was  all  to  us  a  sermon  that  was  good  for  us. 
1  For  thou,  Lord,  hast  made  ine  glad  through 
thy  works ;  and  I  will  rejoice  in  giving  praise 
for  the  operations  of  thy  hands.' 

Next,  we  went  by  carriage  to  Richmond,  a 
place  of  great  historic  interest  and  attractions. 
The  drive  was  beautiful.  The  distant  views 
were  lovely.  We  passed  many  stately  resi- 
dences, surrounded  by  well-kept  grounds,  ivy 
and  flowers  in  abundance.  But  the  English 
will  build  high  walls  about  their  country 
homes,  thus  shutting  themselves,  oyster-like, 
from  the  passers-by.  These  unsightly  walls 
spoil  what  would  without  them  delight  the 
eye.  We  stopped  on  Richmond  Hill  to  see 
the  beautiful  views  from  that  elevation,  and 
were  well  repaid.  The  river  going  on  and  on, 
the  meadows,  the  hills,  the  elms  and  the  chest- 
nuts throwing  dark  shadows,  the  heaths  and 

o  ' 

downs,  the  farm-houses  and  the  mansions, 
Windsor  in  the  distance,  and  the  peculiar  mel- 
lowness of  the  whole  landscape,  were  worth  the 
looking  upon.  At  Hampton  Court  we  took  a 
look  at  the  rich  tapestries  and  the  paintings, 
including  the  ( Hampton  Court  Beauties.' 


LETTER    III.  61 

This  old  court  has  echoed  to  the  footsteps  of 
many  kings  and  many  noted  in  history.  Car- 
dinal Wolsey  fitted  the  place  up  in  regal 
style,  meaning  to  give  it  the  honor  of  his 
own  presence,  but  King  Henry  looked  on 
with  jealous,  envious  eyes,  and  asked  him  his 
reasons  for  having  made  so  costly  a  palace. 
The  wily  Cardinal  was  ingenious  in  his  reply, 
answering  — ( To  show  how  noble  a  palace  a 
subject  may  offer  to  his  king.'  This  palace  is 
now  used  as  a  home  by  members  of  the  nobil- 
ity whose  incomes  have  been  reduced.  We 
spent  a  short  time  in  the  park  and  then  started 
toward  London,  a  distance  of  twelve  miles  or 
more.  We  were  fortunate  in  securing  front 
seats  on  a  tally-ho  coach,  drawn  by  four  hand- 
some gray  horses.  We  stocked  ourselves  well 
with  delicious  fruit,  which  the  venders  pass  up 
to  us  on  poles,  temptingly  arranged  in  little 
baskets,  and  on  we  went  over  a  beautiful  road, 
through  the  glorious  Bushey  Park,  with  its 
majestic  elms  and  chestnuts.  *  0,  we  have  no 
such  rural  beauty  as  England  ! '  said  I.  l  But 
we  shall  have  when  we  are  as  old,'  said  my 
true  American  beside  me. 


62  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

And  that  reminds  me  of  what  a  gentleman 
at  Leamington  said,  in  answer  to  my  question, 
'  How  do  you  get  the  beautiful  green  your 
lawns  wear  ? ' 

'  We  only  water  the  grass/  he  replied. 

'  But/  said  I,  ( we  keep  our  American  lawns 
well  watered  and  they  do  not  look  like  yours.' 
'  You  forget,  Madame,  that  we  have  watered 
ours  for  centuries/  said  he  with  a  smile. 

At  last  we  enter  the  city,  and  drive  through, 
through,  through  it,  a  long,  long  way.  Crowds 
of  people  in  the  streets,  crowds  in  the  parks, 
crowds  everywhere  !  Men  are  preaching  on  the 
corners,  women  singing,  members  of  the  Sal- 
vation Army  exhorting  and  praying,  and  at 
last  we  reach  our  journey's  end  safely.  It  is 
ten  P.  M.,  and  yet  not  dark,  so  long  are  these 
English  twilights ! 

June  25th.  — The  third  one  of  our  trio  has 
again  joined  us,  much  to  our  satisfaction,  and 
to-day  we  have  been  to  the  Crystal  Palace, 
the  Zoological  Gardens,  and  have  accom- 
plished one  hundred  and  one  other  things.  In 
the  palace  there  is  much  to  be  seen  —  pictures, 
sculpture,  and  other  works  of  art.  To-day  an 


LETTER    III.  63 

unusual  crowd  had  gathered  there  to  attend  the 
concert  in  the  large  hall  in  the  afternoon.  We 
were  fearful  we  might  not  be  able,  owing  to  the 
jam,  to  see  all  we  came  for,  and  here  we  desire 
to  thank  again  the  secretary  of  the  associa- 
tion for  his  kindness  toward  us.  If  the  Eng- 
lish gentlemen  are  all  like  those  we  have  come 
in  contact  with,  I  for  one  shall  ever  sing  their 
praises.  Here  we  heard  'The  Messiah'  by 
the  l  Handel  and  Haydn '  society.  Albani 
and  Lillian  Norton  were  two  of  the  artistes, 
which  quite  Americanized  the  company,  and 
all  were  almost  perfect  in  their  parts.  In  the 
evening  elaborate  pyrotechnic  displays  were 
made,  which  with  the  colored  lights  and  foun- 
tains, the  bands  playing,  a  company  of  ballet 
dancers  performing  out-of-doors,  and  the  army 
of  gayly  dressed  people,  made  it  seem  like 
veritable  fairy-land.  It  is  all  alluring,  but  we 
must  turn  our  backs  upon  it,  as  we  have  an 
invitation  to  '  The  Criterion '  to  see  Windom 
as  David  Garrick.  The  play  was  well  acted, 
and  when  over,  a  supper  at  a  fine  restaurant 
near,  where  a  choir  of  boys  sang  to  us  beau- 
tiful glees,  with  their  sweet  voices,  ended 


64  A   BUNDLE    OF   LETTERS. 

another  enjoyable  clay.  We  have  seen  much 
in  London,  and  must  leave  much  unseen,  nor 
can  I  here  tell  you  of  the  half  we  have  seen, 
but  have  given  you  some  ideas  of  what  I 
thought  you  would  best  like  to  hear  about. 

Of  our  trip  to  Brighton  I  believe  I  have 
not  said  a  word,  but  will  now  tell  you  a  little 
about  it,  as  it  was  different  from  any  other. 
Brighton  is  the  largest  and  most  fashionable 
of  all  English  watering-places,  but  as  it  is  not 
yet  the  season  there,  the  place  had  rather  a 
deserted  air.  It  is  a  city  of  brick,  and  the 
houses  look  as  if  built  to  remain  forever,  as 
does  everything  else  in  England.  There  is  an 
esplanade  of  solid  stone,  with  promenades  on 
top ;  on  the  one  side  of  it  is  the  beach  and 
sea,  and  on  the  other  the  large  hotels  and  fine 
houses.  A  part  of  every  day's  programme  is 
to  dress  in  one's  best,  and  promenade  up  and 
down  the  esplanade,  but  the  promenaders  all 
looked  as  solemn  as  if  on  their  way  to  a 
funeral.  The  ladies  smiled  not,  and  the  men 
looked  as  if  they  had  iron  pokers  run  up 
and  down  their  backs,  arms  akimbo,  heads 
bent  back  to  assist  the  glass  over  one  eye  to 


LETTER    III.  65 

stay  in  place,  —  all  quite  English,  '  you  know.' 
On  the  beach  were  plenty  of  '  bathing 
machines/  which  are  really  bathhouses  on 
wheels,  bath-chairs,  and  children  with  their 
nurses,  and  in  the  surf  a  few  bathers.  The 
ladies  seemed  to  have  more  on  than  our  water- 
nymphs  at  Narragansett  Pier,  and  the  gentle- 
men apparently  wore  but  little  clothing;  in 
fact,  I  was  reminded  of  pictures  I  used  to  see 
in  my  geography,  of  the  costumes  worn  by 
natives  in  —  well,  I  think  it  was  Africa;  but 
they  carried  themselves,  even  in  the  water,  with 
dignity.  Our  drive  back  to  London  on  a  tally- 
ho  was  delightful. 

We  have  been  favored  here  with  pleasant 
weather,  but  I  can  imagine  how  grim  and 
black  certain  parts  of  the  city  would  look,  in 
bad.  They  use  much  coal  here,  and,  as  every- 
where else,  it  leaves  its  mark.  We  have  seen 
the  best  of  London,  and  we  have  had  glimpses 
of  her  rich  citizens  and  of  her  poor.  There 
are  many  rich  families  here,  because  their 
wealth  has  been  inherited,  just  as  the  poor 
have  inherited  their  poverty.  Families  here 
keep  in  about  the  same  groove  that  their  ances- 


66  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

tors  did  before  them.  The  Queen  is  greatly 
beloved,  and  we  all  know  she  is  a  good  woman 
and  a  gracious  sovereign.  Of  the  Prince  of 
"W ales,  also,  I  hear  many  good  things.  But 
why  should  there  be  such  a  thing  as  '  royalty  ? ' 
How  much  better  and  higher  is  the  code  of 
self-government,  than  servile  obedience  to  any 
king  or  queen,  human  beings  like  ourselves. 
I  could  not  breathe  freely  as  a  citizen  of  a 
country  where  son  of  mine  could  not  take  the 
highest  place  in  the  nation,  if  he  were  worthy 
of  it  and  the  people's  choice.  Thank  God 
that '  in  the  land  of  the  free,'  our  own  America, 
we  can  be  whatever  we  make  ourselves,  and 
not  what  the  accident  of  birth  has  made  us. 
Of  '  Merrie  England,'  however,  I  shall  carry 
away  with  me  grateful  remembrances  of  her 
people,  and  a  score  of  memories  of  the  beauti- 
ful land  itself,  which  will  ever  be  a  source  of 
enjoyment  to  summon. 


LETTER  IV. 

JUNE  26,  1888. 

FROM  London  to  New  Haven  by  rail,  and 
there  took  steamer  to  cross  the  English  Chan- 
nel. It  was  stormy  and  very  rough,  and  nearly 
all  but  our  party  succumbed  to  sea-sickness. 
We  could  not  remain  outside,  the  storm  -was 
so  severe,  and  the  close  proximity  of  the  mal~ 
de-mer  victims  proved  a  little  contagious.  The 
gong  sounded  for  dinner,  but  I  feared  din- 
ner and  my  stomach  would  not  agree,  and 
remembering  my  determination  not  to  be  sick, 
turned  my  back  upon  those  that  were,  took  a 
bright  little  story,  and  soon  got  so  interested 
in  it  that  I  entirely  got  over  my  nearness  to  a 
capitulation.  But  we  decided  we  liked  the  sea 
better  than  the  choppy  Channel. 


68  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

We  landed  at  Dieppe,  and  stepped  upon 
French  soil !  We  looked  about  the  queer  old 
French  town  with  our  usual  enthusiasm  and 
curiosity,  and  then  proceeded  to  Rouen.  Had 
three  hours  there.  We  dined  in  the  garden 
of  our  inn,  on  a  table  in  an  arbor  covered 
with  yellow  roses  of  a  peculiarly  sweet  fra- 
grance. The  people  looked  at  us  with  as 
much  wonderment  in  their  faces  as  we  at  them. 
And  what  a  bedlam  their  clatter  makes  to  be 
sure.  Well  for  us  that  our  escort  can  under- 
stand every  language  under  the  sun  —  good, 
bad,  or  indifferent.  We  took  a  carriage  and 
were  driven  about  the  town.  We  -went  inside  of 
three  cathedrals,  and  we  saw  the  spot  where  Joan 
of  Arc  was  burned.  The  streets  of  the  old  town 
are  very  narrow,  the  houses  queer  and  foreign. 
All  of  the  women  and  children  seemed  to  be 
sitting  out  of  doors,  with  knitting  work  in  hand. 
They  wear  little  close  caps  and  wooden  shoes, 
and  the  skin  of  the  women  looks  like  shrivelled 
leather.  I  am  told  that  the  lower  class  of  the 
citizens  of  Dieppe  are  very  superstitious,  that 
they  believe,  if  the  souls  of  those  drowned  are 
not  prayed  for  by  their  living  relatives,  at  every 


LETTER    IV.  69 

midnight,  for  one  year,  a  terrible   storm  will 
arise,  and  the  ghosts  of  the  departed  appear 

to  them. 

At  four  P.  M.  we  took  train  for  Paris,  run- 
ning through  a  pretty  country,  with  fields  of 
red  poppies  and  large  orchards  of  cherry  trees, 
red  with  ripe  fruit.  We  bought  them  at  every 
station,  and  most  delicious  were  they.  The 
many  hamlets  or  clusters  of  little  thatched  cot- 
tages, so  very  close  together,  looked  at  least 
social. 

At  eleven  P.  M.  our  train  rolled  into  the  sta- 
tion in  the  city  of  Paris;  and  such  a  babel !  Why 
will  these  people  chatter  so  fast?  We  had  no 
trouble  with  our  trunks,  and  with  them  were 
immediately  driven  to  our  engaged  apartments, 
in  Rue  Clement  Marot,  where  we  are  to  remain 
during  our  stay.  The  name  of  the  street  has 
the  right  sound,  at  any  rate,  for  Marot  was  not 
only  a  poet  but  a  philosopher,  and  his  phil- 
osophy we  may  need  in  (  doing '  Paris. 

Paris,  Wednesday,  June  27th,  1888. — Our 
hostess  and  her  family  have  given  us  a  cordial 
welcome,  and  we  already  feel  quite  at  home. 
Our  apartments  are  convenient  and  prettily 


70  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

furnished,  and  we  are  to  be  very  happy  here,  I 
am  sure.  Our  journey  of  yesterday  tempted 

me  to  sleep  late  this  morning,  but  F let 

in  the  bright  daylight,  with  an  exclamation  of 
disapprobation  at  time  in  Paris  being  spent  in 
slumber.  So  I  was  soon  ready,  feeling  like  '  a 
new  top,'  for  the  day's  whirl.  We  have  here, 
served  early  in  our  rooms,  or  in  the  breakfast 
room,  as  we  choose,  rolls  and  coffee.  At  noon 
we  have  '  dejeuner  a  la  fourchette ; '  at  five, 
tea;  and  at  seven  a  sumptuous  dinner.  A 
sweet  young  lady  from  Beverly  and  several  New 
Yorkers  are  of  the  household,  so  we  make  a 
pleasant  family  party.  We  are  near  the 
Champs  Elysees,  and  this  part  of  the  city  is 
beautiful  —  broad,  fine  streets  shaded  with  trees. 
We  took  an  early  drive  in  this  vicinity,  and 
were  later  left  at  the  Salon,  spending  several 
hours  there.  What  a  bewildering  collection  of 
pleasing  pictures !  I  do  love  these  paintings 
of  lovely  faces,  of  home  scenes,  of  restful  bits 
of  scenery,  by  these  modern  artists.  We  so 
feel  them ;  we  comprehend  them ;  they  gladden 
the  heart  as  well  as  the  eye.  The  painting 
which  won  the  first  prize  this  year  was  a  bat- 


LETTER    IV.  71 

tie-piece  by  D'Etaille.  I  recall  a  picture  at  the 
Metropolitan  Museum,  in  New  York,  by  this 
same  artist.  Meissonier  had  been  his  teacher, 
and  he  had  also  been  chosen  to  award  the 
prizes,  but  when  he  attempted  to  address  this 
man,  his  successful  pupil,  he  could  not  speak, 
and  impulsively  threw  his  arms  about  him  and 
burst  into  tears  and  kissed  him.  Surely  there 
was  no  envy  there.  We  have  seen  many  of 
Meissonier's  pictures  here,  and  they  are  all 
wonderful  in  their  exactness  to  nature.  His 
portraits  are  very  life-like,  and  one  almost  sees 
the  blood  go  and  come  under  the  skin,  so  nat- 
ural are  the  flesh-tints.  Pictures,  like  poems, 
must  be  read  to  be  appreciated.  But  to  me, 
the  most  that  I  have  seen  of  Turner's  I  should 
label  '  Sanscrit,'  not  being  able  to  read  them. 
For  instance,  the  one  called  '  Tapping  the  Fur- 
nace :'  I  searched  in  vain  in  it  for  any  object 
that  looked  like  a  furnace,  and  I  thought  of 
the  story  I  had  heard  of  the  farmer's  wife, 
whose  city  cousin  took  her  to  see  paintings  in 
London.  She  looked  at  Turner's  '  The  Day 
after  the  Deluge  '  —  put  on  her  spectacles,  and 
read  the  title  :  '  Well !  I  should  think  it  wur,' 


72  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

said  she  and  passed  on.  Great  minds  possess 
an  intuition  by  which  they  can  see  farther  into 
things  than  ordinary  minds  can,  and  such 
minds  probably  understand  and  admire  Turner. 

On  the  river  Seine  are  hundreds  of  little 
steamers  plying  up  and  down,  from  which  one 
gets  good  views  of  the  river's  banks.  From  one 
we  were  much  amused  to  see  how  the  washing 
of  Paris  is  done.  The  washerwomen  bring 
their  clothes  to  the  river  and  wade  in  quite  a 
distance,  and  rub  them  in  the  muddy-looking 
water.  We  saw  old  women,  pretty  girls,  and 
children  all  thus  at  work.  I  cannot  imagine 
what  keeps  them  from  having  rheumatism, 
neuralgia,  and  all  the  diseases  that  flesh  is  heir 
to.  How  linen  can  be  made  to  look  white 
in  such  water  I  do  not  understand,  and  yet 
some  which  we  had  laundered,  and  returned 
to  us  this  morning,  was  immaculate  —  white 
skirts  and  furbelows  included,  all  for  two  francs 
a  dozen. 

We  stepped  from  our  steamer  on  shore,  near 
Notre  Dame,  and  entered  this  cathedral,  which, 
from  pictures  and  descriptions  familiar  to  us, 
seemed  quite  like  an  old  acquaintance.  The 


LETTER   IV.  73 

exterior  is  a  regular  cruciform,  with  an  octagon 
end.     At   the    other    extreme    are   two    lofty 
square  towers,  and  back  of  them  a  spire,  sur- 
mounted with  a  gilt    cross.      The   outside  is 
also  adorned  with  some  massive  statues.     The 
multitude  of  statues,  of   bas-reliefs,  of   beau- 
tiful sculpture,  in  the  interior  of  the  building, 
is  wonderful  in  design,  richness  and  beauty. 
The  subjects  are  mostly  from  church  history. 
There  are  many  statues  of  the  Virgin  and  Child, 
and  the  expressions  of  all  are  angelic  and  peace- 
ful, and  yet  each  one  greatly  differs  from  the 
rest.     The  face  of  St.  Martin,  who  is  repre- 
sented in  the  act  of  sharing  his  mantle  with  a 
beggar,  to  protect  him  from  the  cold,  is  heav- 
enly in  its  sweetness  and  beauty,  and  one  turns 
again  and  again  to  look  at  it.     Some  of  the 
subjects,  however,  are    not  as  pleasing   or   as 
helpful.     The  Last  Judgment  is  portrayed  in 
three  parts :    the  second   scene   represents   the 
separation  of  the  righteous  from  the  sinners,  but 
the  faces  of  the  i  elect '  had  such  a  victorious, 
triumphant, '  I  told  you  so '  look,  as  they  gazed 
down  upon  their  condemned  brothers  and  sisters, 
that  my  sympathies  were  entirely  with  the  sin- 


74:  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

ners,  and  I  thought  I  should  rather  have  cast 
my  lot  with  them.  Amongst  the  sculptures  of 
the  Arch  is  a  remarkable  one  of  the  Saviour 
trampling  the  wicked  under  His  feet,  and 
motioning  to  Satan  to  drag  them  off  to  hell. 
This  is  not  our  idea  of  the  Saviour,  who  has 
said,  '  Come  unto  me,'  and  '  There  shall  be  one 
fold  and  one  Shepherd.'  The  sacristy  of  the 
cathedral  consists  of  a  lofty  hall  (all  of  the  large 
churches  of  Europe  have  sacristies  and  treas- 
uries, in  which  are  kept  the  valuables  belong- 
ing to  the  church)  and  in  this  one  we  saw 
wealth  untold.  Church  utensils,  mitres,  crosses, 
crosiers,  swords,  and  many  other  articles, 
studded  with  precious  stones,  dazzling  in  their 
splendor.  The  robes  which  were  worn  by  Pius 
VII.  at  the  coronation  of  Napoleon  I.  were 
exhibited  to  us :  they  were  very  richly  embroid- 
ered with  silver  and  gold.  A  statue,  as  large 
as  life,  of  the  Virgin  and  Child,  made  of  solid 
silver,  is  also  here. 

We  next  went  to  the  church  of  St.  Eustache. 
The  altar  of  this  church  is  exceedingly  high, 
and  composed  of  pure  white  marble,  exquisitely 
sculptured,  and  the  church  also  contains  fine 


LETTER    IV.  75 

frescoes.  Took  a  glance  at  the  church  of  St. 
Germaine,  which  was  the  favorite  place  of  wor- 
ship of  the  Empress  Eugenie.  Also  took  in  St. 
Chappelle,  where  we  heard  some  soul-stirring 
music.  All  of  these  cathedrals  are  rich  in 
stained  glass,  and  are  of  immense  proportions 
and  varied  beautiful  architecture. 

Feeling  that  we  could  not  comprehend  the 
wonders  of  any  more  churches  in  one  day,  we 
changed  our  train  of  thoughts  to  justice,  by 
going  through  the  Palais  de  Justice  and  into 
several  other  handsome  public  buildings.  My 
eyes  were  brightened,  also,  by  a  look  at  the 
glitter  of  brilliant  gems  in  the  shops  of  the 
Palais  Royal,  although  the  other  wise  minds 
thought  time  thus  spent  a  waste.  '  Stores 
enough  in  New  York  and  Boston,'  they  said ; 
but  oh,  not  such  stores !  How  bright,  how 
tempting  the  contents  of  those  windows  were  ! 
The  shopkeepers  of  Paris  think  all  Americans 
millionaires,  and  under  some  circumstances  it 
might  be  flattering  to  be  thus  considered,  but 
in  shopping  in  Paris  it  is  unfortunate,  as  in. 
many  stores  here  I  am  sure  they  advance  the 
price  of  articles  when  an  American  seems  to 


76  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

wish  to  purchase.  I  very  much  desired  to  ob- 
tain an  odd  little  pin  in  one  of  the  shops,  but 
found  it  much  dearer  than  I  expected.  The 
next  day  the  daughter  of  my  hostess  secured 
it  for  me  for  about  half  the  amount  they  valued 
it  at  when  they  thought  /  wished  to  buy 
it.  But  this  is  not  the  principle  of  all  the 
stores,  by  any  means. 

The  cabs  of  Paris  are  a  great  convenience. 
They  are  cheap  to  employ,  and  are  handsome 
and  most  comfortable,  much  the  shape  of  our 
Victorias.  They  use  good,  well-kept  looking 
horses,  well  harnessed,  and  the  cockers  are 
attentive  and  polite.  For  all  of  this  one  has 
only  to  pay  one  franc  to  be  carried  anywhere 
within  the  city  limits,  or  two  persons  can  ride 
one  hour  for  two  francs.  When  I  think  of  my 
carriage  bills  at  home,  in  the  party  season  espe- 
cially, I  feel  like  staying  in  Paris  —  and  riding 
on  forever  —  it  is  such  a  great  pleasure  for  so 
little  money. 

During  the  day,  we  secured  tickets  for  the 
opera  this  evening,  but  there  were  as  many 
forms  to  go  through  with  as  we  have  for  the 
inauguration  of  the  President  of  the  United 


LETTER   IV.  77 

States,  and  when  the  desired  articles  are  at 
last  transferred  to  the  purchasers  '  hands,  at  the 
rate  of  five  dollars  apiece,  they  are  so  cumbrous 
that  one  needs  a  valet  to  carry  them.  Our  own 
method  of  going  to  the  ticket  window  and 
quickly  securing  our  little  pieces  of  pasteboard, 
for  half  the  money,  is  much  better.  After  a 
fully  appreciated  dinner  at  home  we  arrayed 
ourselves  for  the  entertainment,  knowing  better 
than  to  go  in  street  costume,  or  with  bonnets 
on,  this  time.  Our  box  was  a  lower  one,  in 
the  centre  of  the  row,  and  from  which  we  had 
a  fine  opportunity  of  seeing  the  audience  and 
the  beautiful  interior  of  this  house.  It  is  sim- 
ply magnificent.  The  decorations  are  rich, 
light,  and  cheerful.  The  vestibule  and  stair- 
ways are  gorgeous  and  dazzling.  About  the 
halls  and  corridors  are  placed  tables,  where 
between  acts  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  sit,  and 
sip  cool  drinks  and  ices,  chatting  and  laugh- 
ing as  if  life  were  all  a  gala  day.  All  are  in 
full  dress,  and  the  ladies'  gowns  are  exquisitely 
made  and  worn ;  low  corsages,  with  diamond 
necklaces  clasped  around  the  throats  of  the 
fair  wearers,  predominate.  As  these  French 


78  A   BUNDLE    OF   LETTERS. 

ladies  and  their  dark-mo ustached  escorts  prom- 
enade over  the  white  marble  stairs  to  the  strains 
of  the  sweet  music,  it  is  a  gay  and  festive 
scene.  We  watched,  with  much  interest  and 
admiration,  one  very  beautiful  girl,  the  very 
loveliest  of  them  all,  and  how  delighted  we 
were  when  we  heard  her  speak,  and  found 
her  to  be  an  American.  The  opera  was 
i  L'Africaine,'  and  was  gorgeously  set  and 
grandly  rendered.  It  was  one  A.  M.  when  we 
reached  home,  but  our  kind  hostess  was  waiting 
for  us,  to  have  the  pleasure,  as  she  said,  of 
serving  us  with  strawberries  and  cream. 

By  the  way,  such  delicious  cherries,  straw- 
berries, raspberries,  and  apricots  as  we  have 
here  do  not  grow  in  America.  The  market 
women  drag  the  fresh,  luscious  fruits  in  wagons 
through  the  streets,  and  for  a  few  sous  one 
gets  his  fill. 

Thursday,  June  28,  1888. — Another  morn- 
ing spent  in  the.  Salon,  and  I  wish  we  could 
have  had  time  to  have  given  the  entire  day 
there.  We  lingered  before  our  favorite  pict- 
ures, and  at  last  turned  reluctantly  away  from 
them,  as  from  living  friends.  Spent  the  next 


LETTER    IV.  79 

hour  at  the  Trocadero  and  its  beautiful  gar- 
den. The  hall  in  the  '  Palace  of  the  Troca- 
dero' will  seat  10,000  people.  The  aquarium 
and  museum  connected  are  of  much  interest. 
Some  of  the  statuary  and  sculpture  are  so 
beautiful  that  it  seems  impossible  that  human 
hands  could  have  carved  the  'speaking  faces 
from  blocks  of  marble.  It  is  opposite  here 
that  the  Exposition  of  1889  is  to  be  held. 
Museums  in  Paris  are  as  thick  as  plums  in  a 
Thanksgiving  pudding.  Going  toward  the 
Madeleine,  we  stopped  in  the  flower-market; 
tables  and  baskets  were  piled  with  flowers, 
—  tons  of  them  —  cut  flowers,  and  potted 
plants  in  bloom,  and  selling  for  a  'mere 
song '  compared  with  home  prices.  We  have 
so  often  looked  eagerly  in  the  florists'  windows 
on  Tremout  Street,  just  wishing  and  longing 
for  even  one  jacquiminot,  but  when  that  took 
a  dollar  we  had  often  to  be  satisfied  with  look- 
ing. ( And  now/  said  F.,  i  we  will  have  all  we 
want ;  we  will  wear  them,  and  smell  them,  to 
our  hearts'  content,  and  is  not  Paris  delight- 
ful, and  what  a  good  time  we  are  having ! ' 
Loaded  with  sweet  blossoms,  we  strayed  into 


80  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

the  Madeleine,  and  seated  ourselves  just  as 
a  bridal  party  was  entering  the  other  aisle. 
We  were  uninvited  but  sympathetic  guests. 
The  bride  looked  very  young,  with  a  pretty 
face  and  figure,  and  a  confiding,  trustful  man- 
ner; and  when  the  groom,  rather  a  distin- 
guished-looking Frenchman,  took  her  hand, 
and  promised  to  love  and  cherish  always,  our 
hearts  and  lips  cried  Amen !  We  hope  this 
little  bride  chose  her  own  husband,  for  hus- 
bands, here,  we  are  told,  are  generally  selected 
by  the  parents  of  the  girls  for  them,  and  they 
rarely  rebel.  Nearly  all  marriages  among  the 
wealthy  class  are  l  manages  de  convenance.' 
Indeed,  a  young  girl  here  has  a  sorry  sort  of  a 
time  of  it  before  she  is  married ;  she  cannot  be 
alone  with  gentlemen  long  enough  to  know 
whom  she  would  like  to  choose  for  a  husband, 
and  consequently  is  more  willing  to  accept 
submissively  the  one  chosen  for  her,  for  mar- 
riage brings  to  her  more  freedom,  liberty  of 
action,  and  pleasure. 

Since  here,  we  invited  a  French  lady  to  go 
to  an  entertainment  with  us.  She  accepted, 
but  came  to  us  later  to  apologize  and  decline, 


LETTER    IV.  81 

as  she  found  herself  obliged  to  chaperone  her 
daughter,  who  was  going  to  a  garden  party 
with  Monsieur  M.,  and  of  course  could  not  go 
with  a  man  alone.  ( Why,  what  is  the  matter 
with  her  man  ?  Is  he  a  lunatic  ?'  said  F.  '  I 
went  shopping  alone  yesterday,  and  asked 
information  about  the  shops  and  streets  of 
several  of  the  genus,  and  they  all  seemed  sane 
and  gentlemanly.'  '  Yes, '  was  the  lady's 
reply,  ( they  knew  you  to  be  an  American,  and 
American  girls  can  do  as  they  please  here,  un- 
molested, for  they  have  always  so  respected 
themselves  that  all  respect  them.'  We  were  glad 
of  the  compliment  for  our  countrywomen.  The 
new-made  wife  and  husband,  with  bridesmaids 
and  '  assistants '  (as  they  term,  here,  the  ushers) 
and  their  friends,  passed  from  the  church, 
with  our  best  wishes.  This  noted  church  is 
Grecian  in  style.  Its  altars  are  of  carved  wood 
and  gold.  The  huge  bronze  doors  have  illus- 
trations of  the  Ten  Commandments  in  bas-relief. 
The  altar  is  richly  sculptured,  and  one  portion 
of  it  represents  angels  bearing  Magdalen  to 
Paradise  on  their  wings.  Our  good  escort 
lights  candles  in  all  churches  we  enter,  and 


82  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

the  longest  ones  too,  for  the  forgiveness  of  our 
sins,  so  I  trust  ere  we  leave  this  land  we  may 
be  immaculate. 

Out  of  the  church,  with  all  its  holy  sacredness 
and  beauty,  into  the  sunlight  and  the  bright- 
ness of  the  streets.  A  barouche  is  waiting  for 
us,  in  which  we  are  soon  seated,  and  rapidly 
dashing  along  on  the  asphalt  pavement  of 
the  most  beautiful  boulevard  in  the  whole 
world,  the  Champs  Elysees.  The  avenue  is 
broad,  flanked  with  stately  residences  and 
beautiful  rows  of  elms  and  limes,  and  long 
shady  parks.  We  sped  along,  meeting  showy 
equipages  filled  with  gay  people,  behind  high 
steppers  managed  by  light-colored  costumed 
coachmen,  with  remarkably  big  buttons.  Many 
are  on  horseback,  and  the  broad  sidewalks  are 
filled  with  happy  promenaders.  Surely  it  was 
a  merry  sight,  and  all  were  enjoying  it  in  the 
rich  atmosphere  of  this  lovely  June  day.  We 
paused,  to  see  the  Arc  de  Triomphe,  then 
passed  under  it  to  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  a 
lovely  park  and  driveway,  with  lakes,  cool 
groves,  fountains,  cascades,  rustic  houses  and 
seats,  and  everything  beautiful  to  make  it 


LETTER    IV.  83 

what  it  is,  a  delightful  resort.  We  alighted, 
sailed  about  the  lake  in  a  Cleopatra-like  barge, 
sat  at  a  vine-covered  table,  and  drank  the 
sweet  milk  that  a  pretty,  black-eyed  milkmaid 
brought  to  us  fresh  from  her  cow,  and  felt 
that  this  was  our  ( life's  holiday.' 

A  lady,  a  Bostonian  too,  but  whose  home 
has  been  here  for  several  years,  said  to  me  to- 
day :  '  And  so  you  live  in  Boston.  Why,  it 
makes  me  blue  to  even  think  of  Boston,  with 
its  stiff  society,  its  spectacled  women,  and  its 
doleful  teas  ! '  But  I  could  not  agree  with  her. 
Another  lady,  now  living  here,  a  woman  of 
wealth  and  rare  intelligence,  told  me  that  she 
spent  a  year  in  Boston,  and  that  repeatedly  she 
had  been  a  guest  at  small  parties  and  large 
ones,  where  she  had  not  been  introduced  to 
any  one  of  the  assemblage.  Such  a  neglect,  in 
the  best  society  of  Europe,  would  be  consid- 
ered a  great  breach  of  politeness  or  a  marked 
rudeness.  Here,  all  persons  invited  to  meet  at 
the  house  of  a  friend  consider  it  almost  obliga- 
tory to  speak  with  each  other,  if  by  chance  or 
oversight  they  are  not  presented,  and  it  is  the 
custom  for  the  hostess  of  an  invited  company 


84  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

to  have  her  daughters  and  their  young  lady 
friends  move  amongst  the  guests,  to  see  that 
all  are  introduced,  and  are  having  a  pleasant, 
enjoyable  time. 

Shall  I  tell  you  our  menu  for  dinner  to- 
night ?  It  will  be,  I  am  sure,  rather  different 
from  your  own.  But  at  our  Paris  home  every- 
thing is  deliciously  cooked  and  served,  and  E. 
says  we  had  better  make  the  most  of  it ;  food 
will  not  be  as  temptingly  prepared  for  us  in 
Germany.  First,  soup,  followed  by  fish,  cheese, 
and  radishes,  preserves  and  mustard,  roast 
beef  and  maccaroni,  potatoes,  chicken  and 
salad,  cake,  strawberries,  cherries,  and  apricots, 
with  wines  of"  various  kinds,  all  followed  by 
coffee. 

I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  in  our  drive  to- 
day we  met  Sara  Bernhardt;  she  looked  very 
bright  and  happy,  and  not  at  all  the  dying 
'  Camille'  that  she  was  the  last  time  my  eyes 
gazed  upon  her.  She  has  a  fine  home  here, 
and  receives  all  who  choose  to  call  upon  her 
one  day  each  week.  She  is  charitable,  helpful, 
and  sympathetic  to  all,  and  the  Parisians  adore 
her. 


LETTER    IV.  85 

Paris,  June  29th.  —  It  rained  to-day,  for 
even  in  Paris  it  must  sometimes  rain.  We 
went  to  the  galleries  of  the  Louvre  early,  and 
were  so  absorbed  that  we  remained  until  4  p.  M. 
E.,  our  escort  to-day,  once  lived  six  years  in 
Paris,  and  the  paintings  in  the  Louvre  were 
his  old  friends,  so  that  the  information  he  gave 
us  was  of  great  instruction  and  benefit.  F., 
too,  had  been  well  drilled  for  the  enjoyment 
by  studying  the  old  masters  and  by  her  read- 
ings of  the  schools  of  early  art.  Not  being  an 
artist  myself  like  my  two  companions,  I  could 
scarcely  enter  their  sphere  of  enjoyment,  or  see 
with  their  eyes,  so  looked  in  my  own  way. 
This,  you  know,  is  the  largest  gallery  in  the 
world,  and  contains  the  most  of  the  valuable 
works  of  all  the  great  masters,  Rubens,  Raphael, 
Murillo,  Titian,  Rembrandt,  Claude  Lorraine, 
Paul  Veronese,  and  other  world-renowned  art- 
ists. The  works  of  no  artist  are  placed  here 
until  the  artist  himself  has  been  dead  ten  years 
or  more ;  they  are  retained  in  the  Luxembourg 
galleries  during  the  life  of  the  painter.  E. 
wished  us  to  take  certain  pictures  of  Rubens 
first,  of  which  artist  he  has  great  knowledge 


86  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

and  a  keen  appreciation.  He  says  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  us  to  see  best  many  pictures  in  a  short 
time,  so  we  must  take  the  best  pictures  and  see 
them  in  many  ways.  The  allegorical  pictures 
relating  to  Marie  de  Medici  were  our  first 
study,  but  the  angels  were  very  unangelic-look- 
ing  to  me.  Each  one  looked  as  if  tipping  the 
scales  at  two  hundred  pounds  would  be  an  easy 
matter.  In  fact,  all  of  Rubens  women  that  I 
have  so  far  seen  look  more  earthly  than  spirit- 
ual. These  pictures  bring  up  many  thoughts  of 
the  hapless  Marie  de  Medici,  a  woman  of  great 
beauty,  and  of  Richelieu,  the  intriguing,  power- 
ful Cardinal,  whose  influence  was  so  great  over 
the  King,  her  son,  Louis  XIII.  This  woman, 
Rubens  so  often  painted,  died  at  last,  after  the 
implacability  of  Richelieu  caused  her  to  be  ban- 
ished from  France,  in  the  attic  of  the  house 
where  Rubens  was  born,  in  Cologne.  The 
Salon  Carre  contains  the  great  treasures  of  the 
Louvre,  or  the  most  of  them.  Here  we  saw 
the  indeed  beautiful  painting  of  Mary  Anoint- 
ing the  Feet  of  Jesus,  and  the  even  more  won- 
derful one  of  The  Marriage  Feast  at  Cana, 
both  by  Paul  Veronese.  I  cannot  imagine  a 


LETTER    IV.  87 

human  mind  even  conceiving  such  a  picture, 
much  more  putting  it  on  canvas.  It  is  simply 
perfect.  Titian's  works  have  a  great  charm 
for  me,  and  Raphael's,  also.  We  roam  from 
room  to  room ;  my  delighted  companions  turn 
their  attentions  to  me  often  with  remarks 
of  this  nature  :  '  Now  do  look  at  this;  it  is  one 
of  the  great  works  of  the  world/  '  You  re- 

D 

member  this  happened  in  the  reign  of  King  or 
Queen  So-and-so.'  ( You  recollect  the  story 

in  the  Old  Testament  of ,'  and  so  forth 

and  so  on !  I  look ;  say,  Oh  yes !  Am 
sometimes  a  little  inwardly  muddled,  but 
quietly  decide  to  know  for  myself  what  I 
honestly  like  best.  Of  all  the  Madonnas,  I 
like  Murillo's  the  most.  His  colors,  not  as 
positive  as  those  of  Rubens,  are  warm,  deep, 
and  rich,  with  a  certain  peculiar  softness  of  fin- 
ish that  no  other  artist  has.  Surely  genius  is 
God-given.  We  made  no  attempt  to  see  the 
antiquities  this  time,  but  could  not  leave  with- 
out paying  our  respects  to  the  most  beautiful 
of  all  women  —  the  Venus  de  Milo.  Our  ever- 
gallant  escort  says, '  No ; '  no  woman  can  be  the 
most  beautiful  to  him,  who  cannot  extend  her 


OO  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

arms  to  greet  him ;  but  beautiful  she  is.  A 
whole  day  in  the  Louvre,  and  yet  compara- 
tively how  little  of  it  have  we  seen.  This 
evening  we  saw  '  Adrienne  Lecouvrer '  played 
at  the  Comedie  Frangaise. 

Saturday  y  June  30th.  —  The  sun  shone  for 
us  brightly  again  this  morning,  and  we  took  an 
early  drive  through  the  always  attractive  streets 
and  parks  of  Paris.  Early  as  it  was,  crowds  of 
people  were  to  be  seen,  driving,  walking,  and 
sitting  in  the  '  sidewalk  cafes,'  and  under  the 
trees,  chatting,  laughing,  and  everybody  seem- 
ing to  have  plenty  of  leisure  time.  How  is  it 
that  no  one  appears  to  be  in  a  hurry  here  ?  One 
reason  that  the  ladies  have  so  much  more  time 
is  because  their  housekeeping  cares  are  so  much 
less  than  those  of  Americans.  Always,  all  of 
the  laundry  work  is  sent  out,  and  much  of  the 
cooking  of  a  household  is  done  outside :  bread, 
pastry,  cakes,  and  roasts  are  prepared  in  special 
establishments,  and  sent  hot  and  deliciously 
cooked  to  private  tables,  without  a  suggestion 
of  *  bakehouse '  flavor  about  them.  The  servants, 
or  one  of  them  does  all  the  ;  planning '  and  the 
marketing,  rendering  her  accounts  to  her  mis- 


LETTER    IV.  89 

tress  weekly.  Everything  connected  with  the 
domestic  part  of  a  Paris  home  runs  very 
smoothly,  and  with  much  less  care  and  expense 
than  in  Bostonian  homes.  I  remember  once 
visiting  a  dear,  busy,  neat,  systematic  young 
housekeeper  at  her  home  in  a  country  town  in 
New  England.  One  Monday  morning  her 
maid  of  all  work  overslept,  and  we  heard  this 
wide-awake,  orderly  mistress  call  her,  saying, 
1  Katie,  get  up  ;  why,  it  is  seven  o'clock  now,  and 
to-day  is  washing  day,  to-morrow  will  be  iron- 
ing day,  and  the  next  day  baking.'  There  are 
no  such  days  in  Paris !  And  I  should  think 
Parisians  would  say,  'For  which  we  devoutly 
give  thanks.' 

The  gardens  of  the  Tuileries  brought  up 
thoughts  of  Eugenie,  who  used  to  love  the  spot 
so  well.  The  once-beautiful  Empress  whom  the 
French  people  followed  is  now  never  mentioned, 
not  even  a  picture  of  her  seen  in  Paris  win- 
dows ;  and  once  when  I  spoke  of  her  to  a 
dealer  in  photographs,  asking  why  he  had 
not  a  picture  of  her,  he  answered,  '  Remember 
Sedan.' 

The  long  walk  in  the  cool,  crisp  air  made  us 


90  A    BCJNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

hungry,  and  seeing  some  neatly  prepared  tables 
near  we  seated  ourselves  for  a  luncheon.  The 
bouillon  was  good,  and  the  chop  fairly  so,  and 
the  charges  reasonable  we  thought,  but  when 
the  bill  was  presented  we  were  charged  extra 
for  service,  for  the  napkins  we  used,  and  for 
the  chairs  we  sat  on.  I  asked  the  gargon  why 
they  did  not  charge  for  the  air  we  breathed. 
Moral !  Always  make  your  bargains  in  Paris 
before  consummating  them. 

The  Luxembourg  was  near,  and  we  spent 
most  of  the  rest  of  the  day  in  its  galleries. 
Some  of  the  masterpieces  of  Rosa  Bonheur, 
Gerome,  Couture  and  Meissonier  are  here.  To 
see  Cabanel's  Venus  was  of  itself  a  great  delight. 
I  remember  seeing  the  portrait  of  Miss  Wolf, 
in  the  Metropolitan  Art  Museum,  in  New  York, 
painted  by  this  same  Alexander  Cabanel.  There 
are  two  of  Henner's  pictures  here,  one  exquis- 
itely lovely.  He  is  considered  one  of  the  best 
living  painters  of  the  nude ;  his  figures  are  re- 
markably graceful  and  modest,  poetical  studies 
of  the  flesh ;  and  it  is  often  an  intense  delight 
and  relief  to  turn  toward  them,  from  the  nudes 
of  some  other  artists.  We  have  seen  his  works 


LETTER    IV.  91 

also  in  several  private  collections,  and  wherever 
there  is  a  Henner  there  is  always  a  crowd,  so 
lovely  are  they.  One  characteristic  of  them  we 
observed,  namely,  that  in  every  picture  of  his 
that  we  have  seen  his  figures  are  not  far  from 
a  lake,  brook,  or  river,  with  the  figure  partially 
hid  by  shrubbery  and  trees,  and  one  of  our  trio 
said  that  he  was  forcibly  reminded  of  the  old 
nursery  rhyme,  — 

"  '  Mother,  may  I  go  out  to  swim  ? ' 

1  Yes,  my  darling  daughter ; 
Hang  your  clothes  on  a  hickory  limb  — 
But  don't  go  near  the  water ! ' ' 

A  stroll  in  the  beautiful  gardens  of  the  Lux- 
embourg, and  a  visit  to  the  Jardin  des  Plantes, 
with  its  botanical,  mineralogical,  and  geologi- 
cal museums,  and  a  visit  to  the  monkeys  — 
the  cutest  of  all  monkeys,  —  finished  the  day  ; 
and  to-night  we  are  to  dine  with  a  duchess. 
How  fortunate  we  have  a  '  noble '  escort. 
Otherwise,  although  we  did  '  come  over  in  the 
Mayflower,'  we  might  not  have  been  called  upon 
by,  and  invited  to  dine  with,  the  Duke  and 

Duchess  de  la  R at  their  chateau  near  San 

Cloud. 


92  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

Some  of  the  customs  here  seem  very  odd  to 
us.  After  a  couple  are  married,  they  go  to 
drive  about  the  city;  the  wealthier  class  in 
their  own  carriages,  the  less  wealthy  in  hired 
ones,  and  the  poor  on  foot,  but  all  arrayed  in 
the  wedding  dress,  with  veil  and  the  orange 
flowers.  We  met  eight  brides  in  one  after- 
noon's drive,  and  we  have  seen  many  others 
in  the  different  museums  and  galleries.  The 
French  are  indeed  a  pleasure-loving  people. 
Every  green  spot,  and  they  are  legion,  here  is 
bright  with  life.  Lovely  children  are  out  in 
great  numbers  with  their  dark-eyed,  handsome 
bonnes.  These  nurses  are  very  picturesque, 
with  their  white-frilled  turbans  on,  from  which 
hang  lengths  of  broad  white  ribbon  nearly  to 
their  feet.  The  babies  themselves  are  gener- 
ally costumed  in  the  richest  of  laces,  and  often 
look  uncomfortably  loaded  down  with  the  big 
white  hats  even  the  tiniest  of  them  wear,  well 
covered  with  ostrich  plumes.  All  seem  to 
enjoy  life  —  the  middle  classes  and  the  poor  in 
their  own  way  as  entirely  as  the  rich  in  theirs. 
The  parks  and  numerous  gardens  are  filled 
with  women  sitting  about  with  work  or  book 


LETTER    IV.  93 

in  hand,  seemingly  perfectly  contented  with 
their  condition  and  beautiful  surroundings. 

O 

They  wander  into  the  cathedrals  and  picture 
galleries  at  will,  and  surely  such  constant 
familiarity  with  beauty  and  art  must  have  a 
refining  influence.  Of  these  poorer  people, 
who  have  really  been  taught  nothing,  some 
have  more  knowledge  of  art  than  many  Amer- 
icans who  have  studied  it.  I,  one  morning, 
asked  my  chambermaid  to  assist  me  in  wrap- 
ping up  a  few  photographs  I  had  in  my  room. 
In  doing  so  she  told  me  I  ought  to  get 
Murillo's  '  Birth  of  the  Virgin '  and  Titian's 
1  Holy  Family,'  and  recommended  several  art 
stores  as  excellent  places  to  select  photographs 
and  etchings.  The  many  and  great  variety  of 
exhibitions  of  pictures  here,  offer  instruction  to 
all  and  are  a  constant  spur  to  one's  ambition. 
The  Parisians  should  be  thanked  by  the  peo- 
ple of  every  nation  for  throwing  open  their 
public  institutions  to  all  classes  to  enter  '  with- 
out money  and  without  price.'  Paris  thus 
gives  freely  to  all  who  will  accept  a  liberal 
education.  The  Comedie  Franc, aise  and  the 
Conservatoire  of  Music  and  Acting  give  free 


94  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

instruction  to  all  who  have  talent  sufficient  to 
be  admitted.  With  the  French  people's  love 
for  the  beautiful,  with  their  especial  love  for 
Paris,  with  their  seeming  contentment  of  posi- 
tion, with  their  hospitality  and  their  never-fail- 
ing politeness  as  we  now  see  them,  it  does  not 
seem  possible  that  in  times  of  rebellion  and 
riot  they  so  lose  themselves  as  to  burn  and 
destroy  that  they  have  so  dearly  loved,  and 
that  they  become  disloyal  and  unreasonable 
toward  each  other.  The  burning  of  the  Tuil- 
eries  in  1871  was  an  exhibition  of  their  insan- 
ity in  times  of  excitement. 

Here  is  my  Paris  edition  of  the  New  York 
Herald.  I  bless  James  Gordon  Bennett  every 
time  I  take  up  this  little  paper,  so  grateful  am 
I  to  him  for  it.  After  struggling  with  French 
conversation,  French  books,  French  signs, 
French  everything,  all  the  day,  it  is  a  delight 
to  me  to  see  my  own  language  in  print,  to  see 
American  news,  and  often  to  see  the  name  of 
some  one  I  know  or  know  of.  Oh,  we  do  not 
realize  how  dear  America  is  to  us  until  we  are 
far  from  her  shores. 

Paris,    Sunday,   July    1st.  —  And    so   the 


LETTER    IV.  95 

month  dedicated  to  Juno  is  really  gone.  A 
month  filled  with  joys  has  it  been  to  us !  It 
does  not  seem  possible  that  it  can  be  July. 
It  has  been  so  cool  here,  —  cool  and  bright, 
just  the  weather  for  tramps. 

First  of  all,  dear,  I  must  tell  you  a  little  of 
our  dinner  with  the  Duchess  last  night.  How 
I  did  wish  you  were  with  me,  and  how  every 
hour  you  are  in  loving  thought  and  memory 
with  me  everywhere.  I  know  just  what  you 
will  do  to-day.  But  no  one  will  ever  know  all 
the  kind  acts  you  perform,  all  the  sacrifices 
you  make,  save  the  recording  angels.  We  gave 
considerable  time  to  our  toilettes  last  evening, 
even  to  having  a  French  hairdresser.  F. 
looked  '  smart '  in  her  Worth-made  pink  gown, 
and  in  French  conversation  did  us  all  credit. 
Only  two  of  the  sixteen  guests  spoke  English, 
beside  our  host  and  hostess  and  ourselves. 
We  were  not  only  cordially  received,  but  affec- 
tionately. Our  hostess  was  charming  in  face 
and  grace,  and  her  husband  not  far  behind. 
The  halls,  dining-rooms,  and  salon  of  the 
house  were  immense,  with  polished  floors,  and 
rugs,  and  the  woodwork  and  furniture  of  the 


96  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

latter  in  white  and  gold.  Everything  was 
massive  and  stately,  but  with  a  cheerful,  bright 
effect.  The  menu  consisted  of  fourteen 
courses,  served  table  d'hote.  The  hostess  was 
first  helped,  then  the  oldest  lady  at  the  table, 
and  so  on,  down  to  the  youngest  lady  present. 
Then  the  gentlemen  in  the  same  manner.  I 
should  think  this  custom  would  sometimes 
puzzle  the  waiters  to  know  whom  first  to 
serve.  The  table  was  decorated  with  flowers, 
and  the  cumbrous  gold  candelabra  were,  with 
the  gold  service,  very  imposing.  There  was 
not  an  article  of  silver  on  the  table.  Every 
utensil  was  gold,  china,  or  glass.  It  is  a  great 
error  to  suppose  that,  because  Frenchwomen 
love  dress  and  pleasure,  they  are  not  de- 
voted mothers,  true  wives,  and  intelligent 
companions.  Of  course  there  are  exceptions, 
and  so  there  are  in  all  countries.  Our  little 
party  of  last  night  was  unusually  bright,  in- 
telligent, and  familiar  with  American  history, 
her  institutions,  and  her  literature.  They 
thought  our  language  the  hardest  of  all  lan- 
guages to  comprehend  or  to  speak.  They 
referred  to  our  many  words  ending  with  *gh,' 


LETTER    IV.  97 

and  each  one  pronounced  so  entirely  differ- 
ently. A  gentleman  who  had  been  in  New 
York  said,  if  a  business  was  to  be  stopped 
there  they  l  wound  it  up,'  if  clocks  were  to  go 
they  wound  them  up.  Strings  were  wound  up, 
and  he  one  day  received  a  telegram  from  the 
wife  of  a  friend  whom  he  expected  to  meet, 
which  read  thus  :  '  Henry  is  wound  up  for  the 
day ;  hopes  to  see  you  to-morrow.'  Did  not 
know  whether  Henry  was  l  stopped '  or 
'going,'  but  understood  later  that  he  was 
indisposed.  They  asked  us  many  questions 
about  our  own  city,  and  one  lady  told  me  that 
she  read  in  a  paper  that  not  long  ago  a  man 
was  imprisoned  for  preaching  on  Boston  Com- 
mon, but  she  supposed  it  was  a  mistake,  as 
such  a  thing  could  scarcely  have  taken  place 
in  a  free  country.  After  dinner  we  had 
music  and  dancing,  and  bade  our  entertainers 
'  Bon  soir,'  having  had  a  delightful  evening 
with  them,  and  feeling  that  the  nice  points 
of  the  social  code,  with  dukes  and  duchesses, 
are  not  much  different  from  our  own. 

Sunday  in  Paris  is  a  great  contrast  to  our 
New  England  Sunday.     People  go  to  church, 


98  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

to  be  sure,  but  they  go  to  the  theatre  after  if 
they  wish  to,  and  think  it  all  right.  It  is 
the  one  great  day  for  families  to  go  into  the 
parks  and  the  woods  and  the  gardens  near 
the  city.  The  larger  shops  are  closed,  not 
because  it  is  Sunday,  but  because  one  day  in 
the  week  is  demanded  by  the  employees  for 
rest  and  recreation.  Theatres,  circuses,  and 
hundreds  of  places  of  amusement  are  open, 
and  are  all  thronged,  notwithstanding  the  great 
exodus  into  the  suburbs.  One  can  hardly 
blame  clerks  and  working  people,  who  are  in 
cages,  as  it  were,  every  other  day,  for  taking 
Sunday  to  see  the  green  hills,  breathe  the  coun- 
try air,  and  gather  flowers  with  their  little 
ones,  for  Monday  puts  them  in  harness  again. 
Going  to  places  of  amusement  on  Sunday  is 
not  just  our  way,  but  we  are  not  here  to  criti- 
cise. 

After  early  service  in  the  American  Church 
we  took  a  boat  up  the  Seine  for  St.  Cloud, 
where  have  lived  many  kings  of  France.  The 
palace  where  Eugenie,  in  the  height  of  her 
popularity,  so  magnificently  entertained,  has 
never  been  rebuilt  since  its  destruction  in  the 


LETTER    IV.  99 

siege  of  1870.  We  sat  on  the  broad,  handsome 
steps  which  had  led  to  the  palace,  with  the 
leafy  avenues  of  the  parks  before  us,  over 
which  the  lovely  Eugenie,  with  her  imperial 
husband,  and  the  ladies  of  her  court,  clad  in 
their  costumes  of  the  chase,  had  many  tunes 
cantered.  Here  they  entertained,  at  certain 
seasons,  sovereigns,  princes  of  the  blood, 
ambassadors,  and  '  lords  and  ladies  of  high 
degree,'  and  everything  that  could  be  devised 
or  money  procure  was  placed  before  them  for 
their  pleasure.  Music,  games,  dancing,  and 
feasting  went  on  —  and  the  people  paid  for  it. 
Although  there  never  was  and  never  could  be 
the  slightest  unfavorable  criticism  upon  the 
moral  life  of  the  Empress,  her  intense  love  of 
gayety,  admiration,  dress,  and  power  caused 
her  to  forget  the  thousands  of  suffering  poor 
so  near  her.  Had  she  given  more  thought  to 
them,  with  a  helping  hand,  she  could  so  easily 
have  made  their  dark  days  less  so.  Beauty  of 
person  and  power  are  rare  gifts,  but  if  they  so 
dazzle  as  to  make  dim  the  more  divine  gift  of 
a  charitable  heart  and  hand,  they  are  to  be 
undesired,  and  — 


100  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

l 

'  It  were  better  to  be  lowly  born 
And  range  with  humble  lives  in  content.' 

But  the  golden-haired,  sweet-faced  Empress, 
in  her  green  riding  habit,  with  the  flowing 
white  plumes  in  her  hat,  rides  on  under  the 
arches  of  these  beautiful  linden  trees,  and  is 
gone  from  our  thoughts,  and  the  memory  of  a 
gray-haired,  childless  widow  in  Chiselhurst 
rises  before  us.  God  help  her  !  The  foun- 
tains and  cascades  here,  scintillating  in  the  rays 
of  the  sun  this  bright  morning,  are  beautiful, 
and  the  walks  about  are  superb.  We  went 
to  the  very  top  of  the  hill,  and  were  well 
repaid  by  the  admirable  views  of  Paris,  the 
Seine,  and  the  surrounding  scenery. 

Our  long  tramp  made  us  hungry,  so  we 
turned  our  footsteps  toward  the  cafe  at  the 
gate.  The  tables  inside  looked  very  attractive, 
but  my  comrades  thought  the  ones  outside 
more  so,  so  we  seated  ourselves  at  one  in  a 
vine-covered  arbor,  for  dinner  table  d'hote. 
We  have  got  so  used  to  eating  out-of-doors  — 
in  arbors  in  the  country,  and  on  pavements  in 
town,  —  that  you  need  not  be  surprised  if 
I,  some  Sunday  morning,  invite  you  to  baked 


LETTER    IV.  101 

beans  and  brown  bread  on  the  curbstones  of 
the  Oxford,  and  every  bean  served  as  a  course. 
The  town  of  St.  Cloud  is  built  on  the  slope 
of  the  hill.     The  streets  are  very  narrow,  and 
the  stores  to-day  are  all  open  and  well  filled. 
Wandering  about,  I  was  attracted  by  the  sound 
of  music  in  a  quaint-looking  little  church  and 
stepped  in.    Upon  coming  out,  my  companions 
were  nowhere  visible.     I  sat  down  in  a  con- 
spicuous place  on  some  steps,  to  wait  for  them 
to   find   me.      A    richly   dressed    Frenchman 
walked   past  me  several  times.     I  felt  that  I 
was  the  object  of  his  gaze  —  so  looked  in  every 
direction  but  toward  him,  for  here  let  me  say 
that  the  French  are  really  prolonged  starers, 
notwithstanding   their    uniform   courtesy   and 
politeness.     My  imagination  got  the  better  of 
me,  and  I  prepared  for  battle,  trying  to  think 
of  annihilating  names  in  French,  that  I  might 
call  him  should  he  dare  address  me,  and  look- 
ing at  the  strong  handle  of  my  parasol  with 
renewed  confidence.     Secondly,   I  thought  it 
might  be  good  policy  to  pretend  to  be.  deaf 
and  dumb  —  yes,  should  he  speak,  I  will  really 
put  my  finger  to  my  ears  and  my  mouth  and 


102  A   BUNDLE    OF   LETTERS. 

he  will  think  I  am  a  dummy,  planned  I.  Thus, 
with  a  reinforced  feeling  of  safety  and  victory, 
I  looked  squarely  up  at  him.  Imagine  my  sur- 
prise when  he  raised  his  hat,  and  in  fair  Eng- 
lish said :  '  Pardon  me,  but  are  you  not  Mrs. 

—  of   Boston  ? '     It    was  Monsieur   C , 

who  formerly  taught  French  in  my  family.  I 
need  not  tell  you  that  I  gave  him  a  vigorous 
Yankee  hand-shaking.  He  left  America  a 
year  ago  to  take  possession  of  an  inherited  prop- 
erty. Moral :  Consider  every  man,  everywhere,  a 
gentleman,  until  you  have  proof  that  he  is  not. 
A  Frenchman  never  sits  when  a  lady  in  his 
presence  stands,  nor  does  he  ever  smoke  or  ex- 
pectorate in  a  lady's  presence.  Do  the  Ameri- 
cans ?  A  French  lady  asked  me,  and  I  had  to 
say  with  humility, '  Yes.'  After  this  little  inci- 
dent my  friends  appeared,  more  worried  about 
me  than  I  about  them,  and  we  soon  took 
'  top  seats '  on  steam-cars  and  were  carried  to 
Versailles. 

The  gardens  of  Versailles  are  superior  in 
beauty  to  any  others  that  I  have  seen.  I  wish 
I  could  give  you  a  good  idea  of  them,  as  they 
appear  to  me  this  lovely  day.  Beautiful  trees, 


LETTER    IV.  103 

shrubs,  flowers  of  every  size,  fragrance,  and 
color,  orangeries,  conservatories,  palms,  ferns, 
lakes,  vine-covered  seats,  shaded  walks,  arbors, 
statues,  grottoes  cool  and  inossy,  cascades,  and 
the  large  fountains  playing,  with  the  Palace 
beyond,  and  the  blue  sky  above  it  all  —  were 
indeed  worth  seeing.  Linger  longer  outside 
we  would  like  to,  but  the  big,  huge  Palace  is 
before  us,  and  we  must  see  a  little  of  its  con- 
tents. The  galleries,  or  rooms,  are  of  vast  size, 
and  are  filled  with  paintings,  sculpture,  bric- 
a-brac,  tapestries,  and  articles  of  intense  histor- 
ical interest.  The  State  apartments,  the  living 
rooms  of  kings  and  queens,  the  theatre,  and 
the  chapel,  with  their  frescoes  and  paintings, 
are  a  delight  to  us.  In  a  suite  of  eleven  rooms 
are  pictures  illustrating  all  the  most  noted 
events  in  the  history  of  France.  A  white 
marble  statue  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans  is  very 
beautiful  and  remarkably  graceful.  We  also 
noticed  a  fine  statue  of  Joan  of  Arc.  The 
chamber  of  Louis  XIV.  is  absorbingly  inter- 
esting, and  is  one  of  the  gems  of  the  Palace. 
The  ceiling  was  painted  by  Paul  Veronese, 
and  was  brought  here  by  Napoleon  I.  from 


104  A   BUNDLE    OF   LETTERS. 

Venice.  It  represents  Jupiter  punishing  Crime, 
and  is  of  itself  a  day's  study,  and  more.  The 
furniture  and  decorations  of  the  room  are 
rich  and  grand,  said  to  be  about  as  when  the 
1  Grand  Mouarque '  died  in  the  room,  entirely 
against  his  intentions  and  inclinations.  The 
bedstead  upon  which  he  breathed  his  last,  with 
the  same  hangings  and  coverlid,  are  here.  It 
is  a  two-story  one,  and  we  wonder  how  he 
ever  got  on  to  it  with  any  degree  of  dignity. 
This  magnificent  apartment  of  Louis  Quatorze, 
peopled  with  ghosts  of  his  time,  brought  to  us 
many  thoughts.  This  place,  under  his  manage- 
ment, was  made  grand  and  beautiful,  but  at 
the  cost  of  crippling  the  treasury  of  France 
and  exciting  discontent  amongst  her  already 
overtaxed  people,  and  it  was  not  for  their 
enjoyment,  but  for  his  own  and  his  satellites'. 
In  the  queen's  card  room  the  painted  ceiling, 
by  Le  Brun,  represents  France,  dispensing- 
peace  and  abundance  to  all.  What  a  mockery  ! 
At  this  very  time,  while  royalty  at  Versailles 
was  sipping  wine  from  cups  of  gold,  the 
hunger  of  the  poor  outside  was  beginning  to 
make  them  mad.  The  painting  of  the  mar- 


LETTER    IV.  105 

riage  of  Louis  XIV.  with  Maria  Theresa,  and 
some  of  the  battle  pieces,  are  fairly  well  done. 
All  that  one  has  ever  read  of  the  greatness  of 
Louis  XIV.,  the  evil  of  Louis  Quinze,  and  the 
horrors  of  the  Revolution,  comes  to  one's  mind 
at  Versailles.  It  seems  to  me  that  nowhere 
else  could  one  so  thoroughly  feel  and  compre- 
hend France,  —  her  history  and  her  changes. 
We  saw  the  room  in  which  Louis  Quinze  died 
alone,  of  small-pox,  just  as  if  he  had  never 
been  a  king.  We  saw  the  narrow  passage 
where  the  beautiful  Marie  Antoinette  went 
through  to  escape  the  fury  of  the  Parisian 
mob,  while  the  brave,  noble  Swiss  Guards  were 
cut  down  like  grass.  We  thought  of  her 
standing  on  the  balcony,  between  her  innocent 
little  ones,  crying  in  vain  to  the  howling  throng 
for  mercy ;  and  yet  Louis  XVI.,  although 
a  weak  king,  did  not  mean  to  be  a  bad  one. 
F.  says,  her  sympathy  aroused  for  the  ill-fated 
family,  '  How  horrid  the  people  were !'  Yes ; 
but  let  not  the  name  of  Marie  Antoinette 
make  us  forget  the  rights  of  the  long-suffering 
and  wronged  people.  These  rulers  were  living 
in  profligacy  and  luxury :  the  people,  many 


106  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

of  them,  were  in  a  starving  condition,  made  so 
by  the  exorbitant  demands  upon  them  by 
Louis.  Justice  was  not  given  them,  and  they 
took  it,  and  the  forced  necessity  of  such  ter- 
rible work  made  them  maniacs.  We  feel  sorry 
for  mistaken  royalty,  and  more  sorry  for  the 
innocent,  but  let  us  go  out  into  the  beautiful 
gardens  of  Versailles,  and  see  there  the  mul- 
titude enjoying  its  delights,  instead  of  a  few 
kings  and  queens,  and  be  thankful.  The 
palace  and  its  gems  are  educators  for  them, 
and  the  gardens  a  place  of  rest,  and  may  they 
ever  thus  remain.  It  was  at  Versailles  that 
1  good  Queen  Vic '  was  royally  entertained  by 
Louis  Napoleon,  and  it  was  also  here  that 
Emperor  William  was,  later,  crowned  King  of 
Prussia. 

A  hasty  visit  to  Great  and  Little  Trianon 
ended  our  day  at  Versailles.  The  first  named 
was  built  by  Louis  XIV.  for  Madam  de  Main- 
tenon,  and  although  we  had  about  had  our 
fill  of  luxury,  we  grew  enthusiastic  over  the 
Malachite  Hall  and  the  mosaics  and  bronzes 
we  here  saw.  The  Little  Trianon,  Louis  XV. 
gave  to  Madame  du  Barry.  Here  we  saw  the 


LETTER    IV.  107 

old  state  carriages  and  harnesses.  Madame  du 
Barry's  carriage,  in  which  she  used  to  take 
her  airings,  cost  60,000  francs,  and  on  state 
occasions  she  carried  a  bouquet  of  diamonds, 
which  Louis  had  made  for  her  at  a  cost  of 
300,000  francs.  She  had  also  a  dressing- 
stand  of  gold  studded  with  gems,  and  two 
cupids  held  a  crown  of  diamonds  above  it,  so 
made  that  whenever  the  owner  looked  into 
the  mirror  this  crown  was  reflected  as  if 
resting  upon  her  own  head.  This  is  an  exam- 
ple of  the  way  the  revenues  of  France  were 
then  expended.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  there 
was  a  revolution  ? 

An  open  carriage  took  us  to  the  station, 
and  again  we  took  our  places,  on  top  of  a 
steam-car,  for  Paris.  This  would  be  a  delight- 
ful way  of  riding  if  only  the  engine  would 
be  sufficiently  polite  to  turn  its  smoke  in 
another  direction  than  our  faces.  We  had  a 
fine  view  of  the  city  and  its  suburbs  as  we 
approached  it,  and  with  dirty  faces,  tired  feet, 
and  our  hands  filled  with  French  wild  flowers 
and  grasses,  we  reached  Paris ;  and  the  ever- 
convenient  cab  soon  landed  us  in  Clement 


108  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

Marot.  A  friend  had  sent  us  tickets  for  the 
theatre,  but  we  decided  that  we  would  spend 
the  evening  in  the  pretty  drawing-room  of  our 
hostess  and  make  it  as  nearly  like  a  Sunday 
evening  at  home  as  possible.  One  of  out- 
number remarked  how  fortunate  no  one  of  our 
party  has  felt  at  all  homesick.  A  bunch  arose 
in  my  throat,  but  I  swallowed  it  down,  and  I 
have  told  no  one  that  often,  when  I  think  of 
the  dear  ones  far  away,  longings  for  a  sight  of 
their  faces  will  creep  in. 

Monday,  July  2d.  —  Galleries  and  churches 
are  not  open  to  visitors  on  Mondays,  so  we 
planned  for  out-of-door  sights  to-day.  The 
cheapness  of  these  little,  open  barouches  make 
us  feel  able  to  ride  at  any  time.  I  wish  I 
could  take  one  home  to  Boston  with  me,  cocher 
and  all.  We  first  went  to  the  Arc  d'Etoile,  for 
the  second  time,  and  ascended  to  the  top,  for  the 
views.  It  is  said  that  the  views  from  the  Eiffel 
Tower,  when  completed,  will  surpass  anything 
gained  elsewhere,  but  those  from  the  Arc 
d'Etoile  are  very  grand. 

This  huge,  superb  monument  of  Napoleon  I. 
stands  in  a  ( round  .square '  called  the  '  Place 


LETTER    IV.  109 

d'Etoile.'  From  this  street  twelve  beautiful 
avenues  lead,  somewhat  like  spokes  from  the 
hub  of  a  wheel.  Now  imagine  this,  and  these 
streets  built  up  with  elegant  residences,  with 
pretty  grounds  about  them,  and  the  avenues 
filled  with  showy  turnouts  and  merry  throngs 
of  people,  promenading  on  the  broad  sidewalks, 
shaded  by  two  rows  of  magnificent  trees,  and 
you  get  a  little  idea,  with  the  picture  I  send  you, 
of  the  Arc  de  Triomphe  and  its  surroundings. 
The  figures  you  see,  which  will  look  small  on 
paper,  are,  some  of  them,  over  twenty  feet  high, 
representing  Victory,  Fame,  etc.  When  we 
first  walked  under  the  arch,  F.  said,  <I  think 
this  is  a  good  deal  like  walking  under  the  body 
of  Jumbo,' —  which  experience  we  once  had. 

From  the  Arch  we  were  driven  straight 
down  the  beautiful  Avenue  des  Champs  Elysees 
to  the  Place  de  la  Concorde,  in  which  square 
stands  the  obelisk,  the  gift  of  the  Pacha  of 
Egypt.  Immense  bronze  fountains  are  in  the 
square,  and  large  marble  statues  on  pedestals, 
representing  the  country's  largest  cities,  around 
it.  It  is  a  lovely,  peaceful  spot,  this  glorious 
morning,  with  no  signs  of  the  terrible  deeds 


110  A    BUNDLE    OP    LETTERS. 

that  were  once  enacted  here.  But  here  it  was 
the  guillotine  stood  and  did  its  murderous  work. 
Here  the  rabble  surged,  crying  for  more  blood. 
Here  Charlotte  Corday,  here  Marie  Antoin- 
ette, met  death.  And  here  heads  were  cut 
off  at  the  rate  of  forty  or  fifty  a  day ;  and  men 
looked  on,  women  sat  about  with  their  knit- 
ting, occasionally  saying,  '  Look,  there  goes 
another.' 

Do  not  dwell  upon  such  horrors !  we  will  go 
and  buy  some  ribbons !  Our  first  look  into  the 
Bon  Marche.  What  a  beautiful  store  it  is,  to 
be  sure.  The  largest  in  the  world.  How  the 
bargains  tempt  us !  The  clerks  look  bright 
and  fresh,  and  are  remarkably  well  dressed  and 
intelligent  appearing.  And  they  have  reason  to 
be — they  are  all  partners  of  this  great  money- 
making  establishment,  and  time,  opportunities, 
and  means  given  them  for  study.  The  little 
articles  here,  fans,  ornaments,  toilet  articles, 
handkerchiefs,  gloves,  etc.,  are  irresistible,  so 
pretty  and  so  cheap.  In  one  apartment,  cake, 
cookies,  bread,  crackers,  wine,  tea  and  coffee, 
and  the  very  best  of  their  kind,  are  served  to 
all  who  come,  gratuitously.  Wanamaker's 


LETTER    IV.  Ill 

store  in  Philadelphia,  and  Shepard  &  Nor- 
well's,  of  Boston,  are  somewhat  similar,  —  the 
first  mentioned  comparing  very  favorably,  the 
second  not  as  extensive  but  conducted  partly 
on  the  same  principle. 

Leaving  the  Bon  Marche  we  knew  we  had 
got  our  money's  worth,  but  had  precious  few 
coins  left,  so  thought  it  a  good  time  to  see  a 
little  of  the  poorer  class  of  this  rich-appearing 
city.  So  into  the  Latin  quarter  are  we  driven. 
That  sounds  very  intellectual  and  classical,  but 
is  really  the  old  and  poorer  part  of  Paris. 
Here  the  streets  are  narrow,  the  men  wear  blue 
blouses,  and  the  women  look  coarse  and  hard; 
exceptions  there  are,  certainly,  but  such  the 
general  appearance. 

Next,  to  Pere  La  Chaise,  the  city  of  the  dead. 
Much  disappointed  in  its  appearance.  Does 
not  compare  with  our  beautiful  Forest  Hills. 
The  walks  are  not  well  kept.  Immortelles  and 
shrivelled  wreaths  decorate  the  graves,  instead 
of  fresh  flowers.  Numerous  monuments  are 
here,  and  some  very  fine  ones,  but  the  most 
are  costly  without  beauty.  On  the  graves  of 
children  we  saw  toys,  dolls,  wooden  horses,  etc. 


112  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

We  saw  Rachel's  monument,  and  that  of 
lard  and  Heloise,  which  is  really  beautiful.  F. 
said  she  always  meant  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to 
this  spot,  from  pure  sympathy.  We  saw  many 
names,  on  monuments,  familiar  to  us  from  his- 
tory ;  but  as  a  whole,  everything  is  too  mixed 
up  for  it  to  be  considered  a  beautiful  cemetery. 
We  saw  a  young  girl  bending  over  a  grave  in 
tears,  and  our  own  fell  for  her.  She  left  a 
wreath  on  the,  to  her,  precious  earth,  composed 
of  white  immortelles,  with  words  made  of  the 
yellow  flowers  embedded  in  the  white,  which 
read,  as  nearly  as  we  could  translate,  '  To  the 
loved  man  who  was  to  have  been  my  husband.' 
That  told  the  sad  story.  We  thought  Victor 
Hugo  rested  here,  but  one  of  our  trio  said  no  ; 
at  the  Pantheon,  he  felt  sure.  '  Well,  he  was 
a  good  and  great  man  enough  to  have  had  two 
burial  places,'  said  F.  And  so  say  we  all  of 
us ! 

We  went  to  the  Hippodrome  this  evening, 

—  sort  of  a  fashionable  circus  ;  but  not  caring 
much    for   the   entertainment,    came   out   and 
walked  about  to  see  a  little  of  Paris  by  gaslight 

—  and  such  a  sight !      The  entire  population 


LETTER    IV.  113 

of  the  city  seems  to  be  poured  into  the  streets. 
Bands  of  music  playing  in  the  squares ;  the 
sidewalk  cafes  have  their  tables  surrounded 
with  '  evening  dressed  '  ladies  and  gentlemen. 
There  are  illuminated  swings,  merry-go-rounds, 
inclined  planes,  roller  skating  platforms,  for  the 
children,  and  all  seeming  to  be  respectably  con- 
ducted. Paris  is  a  clean  city ;  the  streets  are 
like  a  well-swept  floor  all  the  time,  no  dirt  to  be 
seen.  Two-thirds  of  the  families  live  in  apart- 
ment houses.  These  are  better  arranged  than 
our  Boston  flats.  The  rooms  are  spacious,  and 
no  dark,  windowless  ones,  as  there  is  always  an 
open  court  in  the  centre,  to  admit  light  and  air, 
and  about  the  windows  facing  these  courts  are 
balconies,  pleasant  to  sit  out  on.  The  courts 
are  cultivated,  and  either  have  shrubbery  and 
flowers  growing,  or  have  grassy  lawns,  and  this 
is  all  cared  for  by  the  landlords.  The  rents 
are  much  lower,  also,  than  with  us. 

Tuesday,  July  3d.  —  Too  quickly  the  days 
go  by.  The  weather  is  so  deliciously  fair  and 
bright  this  morning  that  it  is  a  joy  to  be  alive. 
Out  into  the  sunshine  we  go,  ( not  caring  a 
sou  where,  if  only  these  days  could  last  for- 


A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

ever/    said     F.      Yes,    Paris    is    indeed   fasci- 
nating   but   we    must   remember    that   life   is 

O7 

not  all  a  holiday,  nor  would  we  wish  it  to 
be.  We  owe  to  our  Maker  something  higher 
in  aim  and  in  good  works.  We  owe  to  our 
beloved  country  ourselves,  and  the  help  of  our 
acts  and  purposes.  When  human  beings  are 
born  and  bred  in  the  same  air,  speak  the  same 
tongue,  it  is  a  disloyal  thing  to  turn  faces  from 
each  other.  '  United  we  stand.'  We  heard 
of  a  party  of  Americans  finding  difficulty  in 
entering  Germany  not  long  ago  because  they 
had  no  passports,  so  I  thought  we  had  better 
fortify  ourselves  with  the  documents.  Hunted 
up  the  abode  of  the  American  Legation. 
Found  the  apartments  to  resemble  the  rooms  of 
a  private  family,  more  than  those  of  business. 
We  were  duly  questioned,  measured,  and  pen- 
portraits  taken  of  us,  and  after  a  sufficient 
amount  of  '  red-tape  delay,'  the  desired  papers 
were  in  our  hands.  Very  likely  we  shall  not 
be  obliged  to  use  them,  but  they  serve  to  tell 
us  how  tall  we  are,  and,  better  still,  that  my 
nose  is  straight,  which  I  never  knew  before. 
We  next  went  to  the  Pantheon,  which  is 


LETTER    IV.  115 

something  of  a  reproduction  of  St.  Peter's  at 
Rome,  and  is  now  devoted  to  receiving  the 
remains  of  great  men  who  have  merited  the 
gratitude  of  France.  The  church  was  formerly 
called  the  church  of  St.  Genevieve,  she  having 
besn  the  patron  saint  of  Paris.  There  are  some 
beautiful  frescoes  here  relating  to  her  life. 
The  rich  Corinthian  columns,  the  marble 
groups,  frescoes,  and  bas-reliefs,  are  all  an  in- 
teresting study.  France  is  represented  bestow- 
ing honors  on  her  noted  sons.  On  the  frieze 
is  this  inscription  :  (  Aux  Grands  Hommes  La 
Patrie  Reconnaissante.'  There  are  some  beau- 
tiful frescoes  here  by  Cabanel,  which  represent 
different  scenes  in  the  life  of  St.  Louis.  The 
one  where  Blanche  of  Castile,  his  mother,  is 
talking  with  him  is  very  lovely.  The  artist 
has  succeeded  in  investing  the  faces  of  St. 
Louis  with  much  beauty  and  spirituality.  I 
looked  at  these  paintings  with  great  satisfac- 
tion, as  I  admire  the  results  of  Cabanel's  brush 
always.  I  thought,  too,  not  only  of  St.  Louis, 
but  of  Louis  S.  S.,  and  wished  I  could  see  his 
pleasant  face.  I  have  so  often  called  him  my 
St.  Louis.  Please  tell  him  this  when  you  see 


116  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

him,  and  love  to  them  all.  Yet,  with  all  of  the 
objects  I  have  told  you  of,  and  many,  many 
others,  the  interior  of  the  Pantheon  has  a 
cold,  bare  look.  Underneath  this  building  are 
immense  vaults,  and  Victor  Hugo's  remains  are 
here.  The  coffin,  covered  with  cloth,  mounted 
and  embroidered  with  silver,  stands  on  trestles 
facing  the  tomb  of  Rousseau,  —  although  the 
remains  of  the  latter  are  at  Geneva.  A  huge 
pyramid  of  immortelles  is  before  us,  that  were 
brought,  by  those  who  loved  the  great  man,  on 
the  day  of  his  funeral.  All  that  was  mortal 
of  him  is  here,  but  a  mind  that  could  give '  Les 
Miserables '  must  be  working  for  good  still,  in 
the  '  great  somewhere.' 

Noticing  the  interest  I  felt  in  everything 
pertaining  to  Victor  Hugo,  a  Paris  friend,  with 
us  to-day,  said,  '  Let  us  sit  down  and  rest  near 
these  withered  blossoms,  and  I  will  tell  you  a 
little  about  his  funeral,  which  took  place  just 
three  years  ago  this  month,  and  of  which 
I  was  an  eye-witness.'  Although  Victor  Hugo 
was  born  an  aristocrat,  and  was  the  greatest 
poet  of  Prance,  his  sympathy  and  love  for  the 
common  people,  and  his  strong  and  ear- 


LETTER    IV.  117 

nestly  avowed  republican  tendencies,  led  him 
to  request  in  his  will  that  he  should  be  carried 
to  his  grave  in  the  hearse  of  the  poor.  And 
although  this  was  done,  never  were  such  prepa- 
rations made  before  for  the  celebration  and  the 
honoring  of  any  dead.  France  claimed  him 
as  her  greatest,  noblest  son.  His  body  was 
laid  in  state,  under  the  Arch  of  Triumph,  on  a 
catafalque  draped  with  black  velvet  embroid- 
ered with  silver,  standing  in  a  bank  of  flowers. 
Bands  of  crape  were  draped  from  the  top  of 
the  huge  arch  to  the  ground.  Through  the 
day,  and  through  the  night,  torches  were 
lighted,  and  thousands  of  people  visited  the 
spot.  It  was  known  that  he  said  it  would 
be  his  choice  to  be  laid  without  ceremony 
by  the  side  of  his  wife,  in  the  little  coun- 
try churchyard,  but  the  people  would  not 
have  it  thus  ;  only  to  the  Pantheon  should  he 
be  carried  !  But  the  Pantheon  bore  a  visible 
cross,  indicating  dedication  to  the  Roman 
church.  Huofo  could  not  rest  there.  His  reli- 

O 

gion  was  of  no  sect.  He  believed  in  God  and 
loved  Him.  He  believed  in  his  fellow-man  — 
loved  and  helped  him.  His  creed  was  the 


118  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

Golden  Rule,  and  he  lived  by  it.  The  Govern- 
ment ordered  the  cross  removed  from  the  build- 
ing, and  it  was  done,  and  on  June  1st,  1885, 
all  that  was  mortal  of  Victor  Hugo  —  whose 
motto  was  ever  '  Fraternity,  Equality,  and  Lib- 
erty ' —  was  carried  there,  followed  by  the  great- 
est and  wisest  citizens  of  France,  her  ministers, 
her  soldiers,  and  he.r  people.  We  arose,  laid 
our  corsage  ornament  —  a  beautiful  fleur-de- 
lis  —  by  the  great  man's  last  resting-place, 
and  turned  away. 

By  the  way,  the  French  love  this  flower, 
the  national  emblem  of  their  country.  There 
is  a  legend  about  it,  that  runs  like  this  :  Clovis, 
who  was  an  infidel,  went  to  battle  with  the 
Germans.  He  fought  bravely,  but  was  losing 
ground,  when  he  remembered  his  young 
Queen's  faith  in  God.  He  called  in  his  despair 
upon  this  Great  Being  the  Christians  so  trusted 
in,  pledging  himself  to  this  God's  service  for- 
ever if  He  would  but  give  him  this  one  victory. 
The  battle  was  his,  and  he  was  immediately 
baptized.  During  the  solemn  ceremony  an 
angel  appeared  and  threw  about  King  Clovis 
an  exquisite  banner  embroidered  with  the  lovely 


LETTER    IV.  119 

flowers  of  the  fleur-de-lis.  From  that  time 
to  the  French  Revolution  the  kings  of  France 
bore  the  flower  on  their  banners. 

From  the  Pantheon  to  the  Hotel  des  Inval- 
ides,  a  comfortable  home  for  disabled  soldiers 
and  for  aged  ones,  containing  kitchens,  dormi- 
tories, libraries,  museums,  etc.  We  chatted 
with  a  very  old  soldier  with  but  one  leg,  and 
he  said  that  he  was  much  happier  with  that 
one  than  most  men  were  with  two  legs,  so  well 
was  he  there  cared  for.  Next,  to  the  Tomb  of 
Napoleon  the  First,  and  I  should  have  known  it 
to  have  been  his  burial  place  had  I  opened  my 
eyes  upon  it  unexpectedly,  anywhere,  so  '  Nap- 
oleonically '  magnificent  is  it  all,  in  the  Church 
of  the  Invalides,  so  called.  Napoleon  so  loved 
Paris,  that  in  his  will  he  requested  '  that  his 
body  might  rest  on  the  banks  of  the  Seine, 
amongst  the  French  people  he  loved  so  well.' 
Light  for  the  interior  of  this  building  comes 
through  violet-colored  glass  in  the  immense 
cupola,  and  falls  with  a  peculiar,  weird  effect 
upon  the  sarcophagus,  which  seems  to  be  of 
granite,  and  rests  upon  two  large  blocks 
of  different  colored  stone,  one  upon  the 


120  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

other,  making  a  high  pile.  The  foundation 
upon  which  this  all  stands  is  a  crown  of  laurels, 
in  green  marble,  on  a  floor  of  black  and  white, 
and  upon  which  are  seen  the  names  of  many  of 
his  victories.  Twelve  victories  are  also  repre- 
sented by  the  same  number  of  colossal  statues. 
The  crypt  containing  the  sarcophagus  is 
round,  and  immediately  under  the  dome,  in  the 
exact  centre,  and  has  around  it  a  marble  rail- 
ing. We  went  down  into  this  crypt,  around 
the  sarcophagus,  to  a  chapel,  where  we  saw  the 
very  sword  he  wore  at  Austerlitz,  the  insignia 
he  wore,  the  battle  colors,  and  the  crown  of 
gold  given  to  him  by  the  citizens  of  Cher- 
bourg. At  the  farther  end  is  the  statue  of  the 
Emperor,  with  the  characteristic  lines  of  his 
face  strongly  portrayed,  and  it  is  clothed  in 
the  imperial  robes.  The  gallery  leading  to  this 
is  always  lighted  by  bronze  funeral  lamps. 
Other  chapels,  dedicated  to  different  saints,  are 
richly  decorated,  and  the  remains  of  a  number 
of  the  relatives  of  Napoleon  rest  within  them. 
At  the  entrance  to  the  tomb,  as  the  whole  build- 
ing or  church  is  called,  are  two  sarcophagi, 
dedicated,  the  one  to  Marshal  Duroc,  and  the 


LETTER    IV.  121 

other  to  Marshal  Bertrand,  the  devoted  and 
true  friends  of  the  Emperor  in  his  hours  of 
trial.  Way  high  up  in  the  cupola,  which  is, 
I  have  already  told  you,  right  over  the  sarcoph- 
agus containing  Napoleon's  dust,  is  a  beautiful 
picture  of  Jesus,  in  the  midst  of  angels,  look- 
ing tenderly  down.  This  crypt  is  in  the  cen- 
tre to  be  sure,  and  yet  is  in  front  of  steps 
which  lead  to  the  beautiful  altar.  The  steps  are 
of  white  marble,  and  the  high,  superb  altar  is 
of  both  black  and  white  marble,  with  a  canopy 
of  gold,  beneath  which  is  a  figure  of  Christ  on 
the  cross.  The  cost  of  this  entire  monument 
was  nearly  two  million  dollars,  and  is  all  so  rich 
and  effective  that  I  hope  my  description  of  it 
will  enable  you  to  see  it,  a  little,  as  with  my 
eyes.  The  life  of  conquest  and  glory,  defeat 
and  suffering,  which  this  man  knew  is  without 
a  parallel.  His  spirit  left  the  body  in  obscu- 
rity and  exile  ;  that  body  now  rests  in  the  cost- 
liest of  mausoleums.  Here  in  this  very  city  he 
once  lived  in  a  garret,  and  wandered  hopelessly 
about  seeking  employment ;  here  also  he  lived 
in  palaces,  and  ruled  everything  before  him. 
We  have  seen  the  Hotel  de  la  Colonnade,  Rue 


122  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

des  Capucines,  where  he  was  married  to 
Josephine,  and  it  was  at  the  Tuileries  his 
divorce  from  her  was  proclaimed.  His  ambition 
was  indeed  his  ruling  passion,  when  he  could 
put  from  him  the  woman  who  loved  him,  say- 
ing to  her,  '  Josephine,  thou  knowest  I  love 
thee  ;  to  thee  alone  do  I  owe  the  only  moments 
of  true  happiness  that  I  have  ever  had,  but  my 
destiny  overrules  my  will.'  Dying  on  his  lonely 
bed,  on  the  bleak,  rude  heights  of  St.  Helena, 
without  kith  or  kin  to  love  him,  what  then  to 
him  were  ambition,  fame,  or  victories,  even 
such  as  his  had  been  ? 

We  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  in  the  Cluny, 
an  extensive  old  museum,  containing  statues, 
paintings,  armor,  and  wonderfully  beautiful  tap- 
estries, and  rare  antiquities  of  all  descriptions. 
One  exquisite  and  very  odd  piece  of  pottery  so 
interested  me,  being  entirely  different  from  any- 
thing I  had  ever  before  seen,  that  I  asked  one 
of  the  near  attendants  where  it  came  from ;  he 
answered,  '  Hades.'  Fearing  I  did  not  under- 
stand him,  I  asked  the  question  for  the  second 
time,  and  called  my  companions  to  interpret, 
but  '  Hades '  he  repeated,  and  we  could  say 


LETTER    IV.  123 

no  more.  F.  said  it  seemed  well  baked,  and 
told  us  a  story  of  an  Englishman  who  was 
travelling  in  France,  and  had  with  him  a 
French  courier,  the  latter  speaking  English  a 
little,  but  making  some  peculiar  translations. 
The  English  gentleman  asked  concerning  a 
friend  whom  he  knew  to  be  residing  somewhere 
in  France.  The  interpreter  innocently  assured 
him  that  his  friend  had  gone  to  Thunder  in 
Burgundy.  The  Englishman,  not  knowing  of 
the  town  Tounerre,  drew  his  own  conclusions. 
Wednesday,  July  4:th. —  A  pleasant  surprise 
awaited  us  this  morning.  Our  hostess,  in  our 
honor,  had  thrown  from  our  balcony  our  own 
glorious  flag  !  Our  stars  and  stripes  !  None 
other  as  beautiful  in  all  the  world  floats.  It 
seemed  a  part  of  our  own  dear  land,  our  home 
and  friends.  We  are  up  in  the  fifth  story ;  the 
horses  are  kept  in  the  first.  The  higher  up 
the  rooms  are,  the  more  desirable  are  they  con- 
sidered here,  and  the  greater  is  the  rent.  We 
took  an  early  drive,  then  spent  a  little  time 
shopping,  and  made  our  way  to  the  monu- 
mental chapel  containing  the  tombs  and  monu- 
ments of  Marie  Antoinette  and  Louis  XVI., 


124  A   BUNDLE    OP    LETTERS. 

called  the  Chapel  Expiatoire.  Here  is  a  beau- 
tiful statue  of  the  unfortunate  Queen,  and  one 
also  of  her  husband,  on  the  pedestal  of  which 
is  inscribed,  in  letters  of  gold,  his  will,  in  which 
he  commends  his  wife  and  children  to  his 
Maker,  and  expresses  a  wish  that  his  wife  may 
be  allowed  to  keep  their  children,  for  her  ma- 
ternal tenderness  for  them  he  has  never  doubted. 
It  all  expresses  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  a 
good  man.  The  remains  of  the  brave  Swiss 
Guard  who  so  faithfully  defended  the  royal 
family,  are  also  here. 

A  little  more  sight-seeing,  a  few  social  calls 
made,  last  lingering  glances  at  the  Palais 
Royal  and  the  Rue  de  Rivoli  shops,  and  home 
to  dine.  After  dinner  we,  with  the  entire 
household,  went  to  an  out-of-door  fete,  in  the 
streets  and  on  the  sidewalks  of  Paris,  and  a 
grotesque,  comical,  ridiculous  celebration  it  was. 
Old  and  young  were  dancing  in  the  streets; 
open  booths  for  shooting,  angling,  and  all  sorts 
of  games  of  chance  were  well  patronized ;  cheap 
shows,  theatres,  concerts,  cycloramas,  and  pano- 
ramas, all  in  full  blast,  and  Punch  and  Judy 
doing  their  part  vigorously ;  a  beautiful  girl, 


LETTER    IV.  125 

with  a  fine  voice,  and  dressed  in  white  silk,  thus 
exposed  to  the  public  gaze,  was  giving  a  con- 
cert in  the  open  air,  and  the  crowd  about  her 
were  really  ladies  and  gentlemen  ;  every  jim- 
crack  ever  manufactured  was  for  sale  in  the 
miles  of  tents  temporarily  erected  ;  —  and  alto- 
gether it  was  a  strange  sight.  I  could  not  have 
believed  it  possible  that  intelligent  men  and 
women  could  have  enjoyed  such  a  conglomera- 
tion, but  they  seemed  to.  At  midnight,  after 
walking  some  distance  to  find  our  cabs,  we  were 
driven  to  Rue  Clement  Marot,  through  the 
Arch,  and  this  grand  monument  looked  even 
more  grand  in  the  full  blaze  of  the  electric 
lights.  To-morrow  we  regretfully  leave  this 
beautiful  city  and  our  pleasant  friends,  who 
have  done  so  much  to  make  our  stay  here  a 
happy  one.  Whatever  is  rich,  Paris  is  richer. 
Whatever  is  grand,  Paris  is  grander  !  What- 
ever is  beautiful,  Paris  is  more  so.  I  hope  to 
see  it  all  again. 

July  5th.  —  We  left  Paris  at  10  A.  M.  to-day, 
leaving  the  house  early  enough  to  step  into  St. 
Chapelle  for  one  more  look  at  the  incomparable 
rose  window  and  the  other  remarkably  beau- 


126  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

tiful  stained-glass  windows  of  this  gorgeous 
church.  The  morning  was  a  bright  one,  and 
as  the  rays  of  the  sun  streamed  in  upon  us, 
through  the  rich  colors  of  the  glass,  and 
mingled  with  the  delicate  blue  tone  reflected 

o 

from  the  arched  roof  of  the  edifice,  the 
effect  was  glorious.  This  exquisite  ceiling  is 
thickly  dotted  with  gilt  stars.  The  whole  in- 
terior is  decorated  with  gilt  diamonds,  with 
paintings  of  fleur-de-lis,  St.  Louis's  flower 
between.  We  went  into  the  little  chamber 
where  the  saintly  King  used  to  sit  and  listen 
to  the  church  services,  through  a  window  open- 
ing into  the  nave.  On  reaching  the  station  we 
found  our  friends  waiting  for  us,  to  give  us  a 
pleasant  send-off  toward  Geneva. 


LETTER  V. 

WE  cannot  be  French  very  much  longer, 
and  must  turn  our  tongue  into  German.  E. 
does  not  accompany  us,  so  our  own  interpreters 
we  shall  have  to  be.  Our  carriage  contained, 
beside  ourselves,  a  French  gentleman  and  an 
Italian  gentleman,  '  we  four,  and  no  more.' 
We  sped  on  through  villas  and  villages,  and 
fields  of  bright  wild  flowers,  with  but  little 
of  interest,  however,  to  detail. 

Our  Italian  seemed  troubled  in  regard  to  an 
apparently  new  glove  which  he  tore  badly 
in  raising  a  window.  After  a  long,  disconso- 
late look  at  it,  he  took  from  his  travelling 
bag,  needle  and  thread,  and  went  carefully  at 
work  to  repair  the  injury,  but  made  a  bad 
tangle  of  it.  As  F.  had  implements  handy, 


128  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

including  a  thimble,  she  offered  to  mend  it  for 
him.  He  accepted  graciously,  and  his  hand- 
some face  grew  luminous  as  he  watched  his 
pet  glove  grow  whole  under  her  deft  fingers. 
What  might  he  do  for  us?  Would  we  drink 
wine  with  him  ?  '  No,  thanks,'  we  said.  What 
else  he  offered,  to  show  his  gratitude,  we  could 
not  understand ;  when  out  from  his  pocket 
he  took  a  phrase-book  of  Italian  and  English 
words,  and  pointed  to  the  sentence,  '  Shall  I 
sing  for  you  ?'  We  gladly  acquiesced,  and  to 
our  great  delight  he  poured  forth  one  of  the 
grandest,  sweetest  voices  I  ever  in  my  life 
listened  to.  It  was  like  Brignoli's  in  his  best 
days.  He  sung  the  choicest  airs  from  different 
operas,  and  warbled,  in  his  own  musical  lan- 
guage, tender  songs.  The  distinguished-look- 
ing French  gentleman  joined  us  in  thanking 
him  for  making  the  hours  pass  so  delight- 
fully —  for  it  is  a  long  run  from  Paris  to 
Geneva.  We  find  fellow  passengers,  in  this 
country,  much  more  thoughtful  of  the  comfort 
of  others  than  they  are  in  England  or  America. 
We  also  like  the  steam-cars  here  much  better 
than  our  own,  unless  one  always  rides  in  a 


LETTER   V.  129 

Pullman.  Even  many  of  the  second  class  cars 
have  high  backs  and  cushions,  all  softly  uphol- 
stered. Early  in  the  afternoon  a  thunder- 
storm struck  us,  and  we  had  heavy  showers. 
Later  the  sun  shone  out  brightly,  and  set 
gorgeously  in  red.  At  six  p.  M.  we  made  our 
first  stop,  at  Dijon,  and  had  at  the  station  a  fine 
table  d'hote  dinner,  wine  included,  and  we  did 
all  justice,  for  we  were  as  hungry  as  bears,  not 
having  provided  ourselves  with  a  luncheon, 
thinking  we  should  stop  somewhere  for  one. 
Remember  this,  all  who  go  from  Paris  to  Dijon. 
Much  refreshed,  we  continued  our  journey  to 
Macon,  where  we  had  planned  to  spend  the 
night,  but  our  polite  and  helpful  Frenchman, 
who  had  all  along  the  road  kindly  given  us 
much  information  of  the  country  we  came 
through,  assured  us  that  if  we  did  so  we  could 
not  reach  Geneva  until  three  p.  M.  the  next 
day,  but  if  we  kept  on  to  Ambrieau,  and  would 
spend  the  night  there,  we  could  take  an  early 
morning  train  and  reach  Geneva  at  eleven 

O 

A.  M.  So  this  we  decided  to  do,  bidding  here 
our  kind  informant  adieu,  as  his  home  is  in 
Lyons,  hoping  to  be  able  in  the  future  to 


130  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

accept  his  invitation  to  sometime  go  through 
his  silk  factory,  under  his  escort. 

We  rolled  into  the  little  station  at  Ambrieau 
about  ten  P.  M.,  our  Italian  companion  keep- 
ing on  to  Genoa,  waving  his  last  farewell  from 
the  car  window,  with  a  white  silk  handkerchief 
in  one  hand  and  a  scarlet  one  in  the  other. 
To  our  dismay  we  found  it  raining  in  torrents, 
intensely  dark,  and  not  a  car  or  carriage,  nor 
man  or  beast,  to  be  found.  The  only  live 
article  around  was  the  station-agent,  to  whom 
we  hurried  back,  fearing  he  too  would  disap- 
pear, which  he  was  making  hasty  preparations 
to  do.  We  ascertained  from  him  that  the 
principal  inn  of  the  place  was  more  than  a 
mile  distant,  and  no  way  of  reaching  it  at  that 
hour  of  night  but  to  walk.  Near  by,  he  said, 
was  a  small  house  where  he  thought  we  could 
get  a  room  and  be  comfortably  lodged,  and 
assured  us  we  should  be  safe.  We  could  do 
nothing  but  accept.  He  piloted  us  across  the 
street  and  into  the  front  room  of  a  house, 
where  some  men  were  sitting  around  a  table 
drinking  beer.  A  pretty  girl  was  waiting 
upon  them,  with  whom  our  escort  had  some 


LETTER    V.  131 

words,  and  without  giving  us  attention  she 
filled  a  glass  with  beer  for  him.  We  began 
to  feel  a  little  uncomfortable,  and  again  asked 
our  leader  if  we  were  safe.  He  answered 
*  Oui,  oui ;'  but  still  stood  there.  All  at  once 
we  thought  of  his  expected  franc,  on  putting 
which  into  his  hand  he  retreated,  leaving  us 
in  the  care  of  the  pretty  maid.  She  took  our 
bags,  and  we  followed  her,  through  a  dark 
rear  room,  then  through  a  large  bare  kitchen, 
out  into  the  back  yard.  She  led  us  on, 
through  the  furious  rain,  up  two  long  flights 
of  stairs,  built  on  the  outside  of  the  house, 
and  on  the  landing  unlocked  a  door  with  a 
huge  iron  key,  which  door  creaked  and 
squeaked  on  its  hinges,  as  if  they  had  not  been 
disturbed  for  many  a  day.  As  getting  the 
door  open  was  the  work  of  some  minutes,  we 
were  pretty  thoroughly  soaked  by  the  time  we 
stepped  into  the  queer-looking  entry,  with  its 
stone  floor  and  roughly  plastered  walls.  Out 
of  that  we  went  into  and  through  a  long,  nar- 
row, crooked  hall,  with  a  shrine  at  the  extreme 
end,  to  our  room.  It  was  a  small  one,  with 
bare  floor  —  a  single  bed,  one  chair,  and  a 


132  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

table  with  a  wash-bowl  and  pitcher  on  top,  the 
former  about  as  deep  as  a  soup  plate,  and  the 
pitcher  minus  water  and  handle;  but  enough 
of  the  former  was  dripping  from  our  clothes 
to  equalize  conditions.  We  found  it  impossi- 
ble to  turn  the  lock  of  the  door,  so  placed  what 
furniture  the  room  contained  against  it,  feeling 
sure  that  the  l  Blessed  Mother '  in  the  shrine 
outside  would  keep  us  from  all  harm.  We 
left  lighted  our  two  long  candles  —  found  the 
little  bed  sweet  and  clean,  and  soon  forgot 
our  tribulations. 

Ambrieau,  July  6th.  —  A  clear  morning, 
and  our  trust  not  misplaced.  We  are  safe, 
and  are  refreshed  by  our  night's  rest.  After 
being  served  with  a  bowl  of  black  coffee  and 
some  blacker  bread,  for  our  breakfast,  on  a 
clean  wooden  table,  we  paid  our  little  bill  of 
five  francs,  and  went  our  way  rejoicing.  At 
seven  A.  M.  we  were  facing  Geneva,  rushing 
into  and  through  the  prettiest  valley  of  coun- 
try we  had  ever  seen.  The  Alps  towered  up 
on  both  sides  of  us,  and  in  the  valley  were 
clusters  of  thatched  and  vine-covered  cottages, 
with  open  doors,  near  which  contented  grand- 


LETTER    V.  133 

mothers  sat  knitting  and  watching  the  children 
playing  at  their  feet,  while  the  younger  women 
could  be  seen,  not  far  away,  minding  the  flock 
of  geese  or  the  herd  of  sheep.  I  am  told  there 
is  much  affection  for  each  other  exhibited  in 
the  simple  homes  of  these  peasants :  often  the 
entire  families  of  several  generations  live  under 
one  roof  in  entire  harmony  and  peace.  These 
i  ganders  and  geese '  are  wonderfully  wise,  if 
what  a  travelling  companion  told  me  is  true. 
She  said  that  when  a  male  child  is  born  in 
these  homes,  the  ganders  form  a  line,  and 
march  around  the  house,  but  when  the  other 
sex  is  born  they  hide  themselves.  Poor  gan- 
ders !  Probably  jealous. 

At  eleven  A.  M.  we  reached  Geneva,  and 
found  our  room  at  the  Metropole  ready  for  us. 
It  is  really  an  elegant  one,  spacious,  and  in 
the  front  of  the  house,  with  windows  to  the 
floor,  by  which  we  can  sit  and  look  out  upon 
the  Jardin  du  Lac  and  the  beautiful  blue 
waters  of  Lake  Geneva,  or  Leman,  often  called. 
Our  early  breakfast  not  having  been  a  very 
nourishing  one,  we  decided  to  take  another 
here  before  going  out.  A  good  one  it  was, 


A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

and  was  quickly  served.  While  enjoying  it, 
a  lady  came  to  us,  an  American,  and  told  us 
where  to  buy  furs,  where  diamonds  were  the 
cheapest,  and  where  we  could  find  the  best 
places  to  purchase  watches  —  giving  us  her 
card  at  the  same  time.  We  were  afterwards 
told  that  a  number  of  American  ladies  make 
quite  an  income  from  commissions  earned  in 
this  way.  An  open  carriage  was  soon  at  hand, 
and  from  it  we  took  our  first  look  at  Geneva. 
There  is  nothing  very  remarkable  about  the 
place,  as  a  city.  There  are  many  hotels,  and 
upon  the  quay  are  numerous  elegant  stores, 
mostly  jewelry  stores.  In  some  of  these  we 
saw  the  beautiful  enamelled  watches,  that  are 
nowhere  else  so  exquisitely  made.  Watches 
in  almost  everything  saw  we  here  —  in  neck- 
laces, bracelets,  canes,  and  umbrellas,  and  at  all 
prices.  We  went  into  one  of  the  factories,  and 
found  that  women  do  much  of  the  fine  work, 
a  certain  number  working  only  on  certain 
parts,  and  therefore  constant  practice  makes 
them  extremely  dexterous  in  their  specialty. 
They  were  well  dressed,  and  looked  intelli- 
gent and  contented. 


LETTER    V.  135 

Here  the  lake  receives  the  waters  of  the 
Rhone,  and  about  midway  of  the  fine  bridge 
which  crosses  it  is  Rousseau's  island,  on  which 
stands  a  bronze  statue  of  him.  The  upper 
streets  of  Geneva  are  very  hilly,  and  the  older 
part  is  quaint  and  odd  in  its  buildings,  like 
the  old  French  towns.  We  saw  the  house 
Calvin  lived  in,  and  went  into  the  church 
where  he  preached  his  hard  logic,  but  we  could 
shed  no  tears  for  his  departure  from  this  world, 
but  might  for  the  suffering  Servetus,  whom 
he  caused  to  be  burned  for  not  believing  as  he 
did.  It  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  the  stern, 
dogmatic  Calvin  showed  a  spirit  of  malice,  as 
well  as  great  uncharitableness,  but  of  course, 
in  those  days  very  few  lived  who  considered 
it  right  for  one  to  have  an  opinion  different 
from  their  leaders.  What  a  huge  bonfire  there 
would  be  if  freethinkers  were  thus  treated  in 
these  days  !  And  was  it  not  Calvin,  also,  who 
caused  the  Prince  of  Conde  to  be  punished 
because  he  made  himself  agreeable  to  ladies. 

O  ' 

and  thereby  injured  the  interests  of  God? 
That  reminds  us  of  one  club  man  who  is 
always  at  his  club  when  we  want  him  for 


136  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

better  purposes.  Has  he  a  little  of  the  spirit 
of  Calvin? 

This  city  is  full  of  associations  of  intellectual 
lives  which  bring  fragrance  of  good  deeds, 
the  good  works  of  Mine,  de  Stael,  her  Father 
Neckar,  of  Pestalozzi,  Pere  Gerand,  and  many 
others. 

In  the  afternoon  we  took  a  sail  up  the  lake. 
The  shores  are  closely  dotted  with  hotels,  fine 
residences,  little  villages,  picturesque  chalets, 
fronted  with  green,  well-kept  lawns,  running  to 
the _ water's  edge,  on  the  one  side  of  the  lake, 
while  the  Alps  rise  high  and  dark  on  the 
other.  We  landed  at  Nyon,  and  climbed 
innumerable  steps  to  see  an  old  castle,  from 
which  we  had  charming  outlooks.  We  sailed 
back  to  Geneva  at  the  hour  of  sunset.  All 
my  life  I  had  heard  much  of  the  sudden,  strik- 
ing color  changes  that  sunset  produces  on  the 
summits  of  the  Alps  —  and  we  have  seen  them 
in  all  their  great  beauty.  At  one  instant,  the 
terraces  of  mountain  tops  looked  as  if  clothed 
in  gold,  and  next  as  if  painted  crimson, —  and 
as  the  sun  sunk  lower  they  were  left  huge 
dark  piles,  casting  their  shadows  over  us.  On 


LETTER    V.  137 

landing,  we  took  a  walk,  and  inspected  the 
much-heard-of  monument  of  the  Duke  of 
Brunswick,  for  the  erection  of  which  he  left 
plans  and  money.  Did  not  admire  it.  It  is 
very  'giddy/  but  the  placing  of  it  there 
poured  funds  into  the  treasury  of  the  town. 
We  looked  at  the  pretty  little  American  church 
with  a  tender  interest,  for  one  dear  to  us  was 
married  within  its  walls.  In  the  evening  we 
went  to  an  open-air  concert,  and  a  very  good 
one  too,  in  the  garden  in  front  of  our  hotel. 

Called  at  an  office  to  see  about  getting  front 
seats  on  diligence,  for  our  trip  to  Chamouni 
to-morrow.  F.  speaking  French  the  better, 
did  the  talking,  but  was  assured  we  could  have 
no  front  seats  for  the  next  day,  and  we  were 
about  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  we  should 
have  to  take  back  ones,  much  to  our  disappoint- 
ment ;  but  it  is  here  as  almost  everywhere  else, 
if  you  are  willing  to  take  '  back  seats  '  you  may 
never  take  front  ones,  and  this  time  I  was  not 
willing.  Remembering  the  potency  of  the  sil- 
ver key,  I  resorted  to  that  as  a  forlorn  hope, 
mixed  in  with  my  poor  French,  and  succeeded 
in  securing  the  desired  places.  On  our  way 


138  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

home,  F.  said  she  feared  my  earnestness  and 
my  not  always  grammatical  French  might 
place  me  in  as  bad  a  position  as  an  American 
woman  occupied,  of  whom  she  heard  this  story. 
She  was  rather  proud  of  her  somewhat  limited 
knowledge  of  the  French  language,  and  fond 
of  airing  it.  She  went  to  secure  places  on  a 
diligence  for  one  of  the  Swiss  mountain  trips, 
and  approaching  the  conductor,  demanded  — 

1  Etes-vous  les  diligence  ? ' 

1  Non,  Madame,  pardon ;  Je  suis  le  conduc- 
teur.' 

Lady  —  somewhat  angry  at  the  correction 
—  said  excitedly,  '  C'est  tout  de  meme ;  Je 
prenderai  deux  places  dans  votre  interieur  ?' 

July  9th,  1888.  —  Never  a  pleasanter  morn- 
ing dawned  for  a  ride  on  a  diligence !  Ours 
was  a  new  one,  painted  in  bright  colors,  and 
we  had  the  two  seats  between  the.  driver  and 
conductor.  Our  six  strong  horses  wore  strings 
of  bells  about  their  necks,  and  we  started 
off  right  merrily.  The  road  from  Geneva  to 
Chamouni  is  as  familiar  to  tourists  as  the  way 
from  the  Oxford  to  Boston  Common,  but  all 
do  not  see  it  alike,  and  you  have  not  seen  it 


LETTER   V.  139 

at  all,  so  I  know  you  will  enjoy  hearing  of 
it,  told  to  you  in  my  way.  The  road  over 
which  we  rolled  was  simply  perfect,  and  the 
panorama  in  front  of  and  about  us,  magnifi- 
cent. We  went  through  the  valley  of  the 
Arve,  past  well-cultivated  farms,  and  little 
factories  run  by  water  turning  the  big  wheels, 
past  pretty  chalets,  nestled  in  green,  stop- 
ping often  to  change  horses  and  drivers,  when 
the  pretty  Swiss  children  would  gather  about 
us  and  entreat  us  to  buy  their  nosegays  of 
wild  flowers.  There  is  something  so  pathetic 
in  the  faces  of  these  little  ones,  that  we  could 
not  find  it  in  our  hearts  to  disappoint  them,  so 
our  decorations  became  as  thick  as  those  of  a 
brigadier-general. 

But  soon  we  leave  these  rural  scenes,  and 
strike  into  scenery  so  grand  that  I  fear  it  is 
bayond  description.  Imagine  us  going  over 
the  road,  with  the  river  tumbling,  foaming, 
along  by  its  edge,  the  mountains  towering  up 
on  each  side  of  us,  some  rocky,  others  covered 
with  green  pines,  with  a  sheet  of  mosses,  lichens, 
and  mountain  blossoms  at  their  bases,  and 
frequent  cascades  of  water  rushing  down  pell- 


140  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

mell  from  tremendous  heights,  forming  vast 
clouds  of  vapor  long  before  reaching  the  val- 
ley below,  and  sparkling  in  the  rays  of  the  sun 
like  millions  of  diamonds.  One  long,  narrow 
waterfall,  fringed  with  green  foliage,  like 
orange  leaves,  well  merited  its  name  of  ' the 
bridal  veil,'  so  pure,  lace-like,  and  fleecy  did 
it  look.  '  This  will  be  a  fine  day  to  see  Mt. 
Blanc,'  said  our  conductor,  and  soon  the 
mountain  chain,  with  every  shape  of  peak, 
including  Mt.  Blanc,  shot  up  like  giant  com- 
manders above  the  regions  of  the  clouds,  in 
full  view  against  the  blue  sky  background, 
which  blue  was  intensified  by  the  snow-clad 
tips.  After  leaving  the  Baths  of  St.  Gervais, 
a  health  resort  approached  through  a  beautiful 
avenue  of  trees,  and  where  we  dined,  we  find 
the  road  even  better  than  at  its  beginning. 
These  roads  were  built,  and  are  taken  care 
of,  by  the  Government,  and  there  is  scarcely  a 
stone  or  an  uneven  place  on  them.  Every 
few  miles  we  see  crosses  erected,  some  costly 
ones,  but  more  of  wood  simply  painted,  with 
images  of  the  Saviour  or  of  some  saint  on  the 
pedestals  or  in  glass  cases.  Over  the  doors  or 


LETTER    V.  141 

windows  of  most  of  the  houses  are  statues 
or  pictures  of  saints,  for  we  are  in  Catholic 
Switzerland  now.  Here  too  we  are  assailed 
by  beggars,  and  from  one  house  the  whole 
family,  including  the  grandparents,  all  ragged 
and  dirty,  besieged  us  for  alms.  What  a  blot 
is  this  upon  beautiful  Switzerland.  On  this 
road  also  we  first  saw  victims  of  cretinism 
and  goitre.  We  met  one  old  beggar  woman 
whose  neck  was  so  swollen  that  we  could  only 
see  the  upper  part  of  her  head  protruding  from 
the  swollen  mass  of  flesh  beneath.  We  were 
told  that  the  medical  and  scientific  men  of  the 
country  have  for  years  endeavored  to  ascer- 
tain the  cause  and  a  cure  for  this  loathsome 
disease,  but  have  so  far  been  unsuccessful. 
Many  attribute  it  to  the  use  of  snow  water, 
but  I  should  be  more  willing  to  think  the  use 
of  no  water  caused  it,  for  dirtier,  more  repul- 
sive-looking; mendicants  I  never  beheld.  At 

o 

about  seven  p.  M.  we  reached  the  little  village 
of  Chamouni,  and  alighted  at  our  hotel  with- 
out a  feeling  of  fatigue,  so  comfortable  and 
full  of  delight  had  been  our  trip. 


LETTER  VI. 

CHA.MOUNI  is  a  small  town  at  the  foot  of 
the  mountains,  surrounded  in  all  directions  by 
grand  scenery,  and  the  river  Arve  rushing 
through  it,  but  our  impressions  of  the  place 
we  will  give  you  to-morrow.  We  find  our  hotel 
full  of  people  from  all  over  the  world,  and, 
alas,  we  see  by  the  register  that  some  friends 
from  Boston  have  just  left.  Why  could  they 
not  have  stayed  one  day  longer?  We  rush 
from  table  d'hote  into  the  yard  to  see  a  party 
dismount  from  their  mules  after  a  day's  excur- 
sion in  the  mountains,  and  a  tired  but  jolly 
crowd  they  were.  e  This  is  what  you  have  got 
to  do  to-morrow,  so  pick  out  your  thorough- 
bred,' said  F.  I  scanned  the  creatures,  but 
took  no  stock  in  them  ;  but  mules  have  a  wise 
look. 


144  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

Ohamounij  July  Wth.  —  What  a  day  this 
has  been  in  my  calendar,  to  be  sure  !  Thanks 
be  to  the  good  Lord  that  I  am  alive  to-night  to 
tell  you  about  it.  This  early  morning,  before 
breakfast,  we  took  a  stroll  about  the  town, 
which  is  composed  greatly  of  hotels,  as  this  is 
everybody's  starting  point  for  the  mountain 
and  glacier  trips  of  this  part  of  Switzerland. 
There  are  two  or  three  churches  here  and  some 
stores,  and  groups  of  small  but  comfortable- 
looking  homes,  but  mules  predominate —  mules 
in  the  streets,  mules  in  every  yard,  and  mules 
on  every  corner ;  in  fact,  the  principal  part  of 
the  population  is  mules  and  the  principal  part 
of  industry  mule  riding,  at  least  one  would  so 
judge  from  the  general  aspect.  We  met  a 
party  of  gentlemen  coming  from  Mt.  Blanc, 
who  had  made  a  hazardous  journey,  and  for 
whom  we  had  heard  some  anxiety  expressed 
by  their  friends  at  the  hotel,  but  they  are  safe, 
and  we  imagine  the  young,  rosy-cheeked 
English  maiden  will  now  leave  the  telescope, 
where  she  has  stood  for  so  much  of  the  time 
since  our  arrival,  looking  anxiously  toward  the 
ice-capped  giant,  hoping  to  see  .'  Albert.' 


LETTER    VI.  145 

There  is  probably  much  satisfaction  to  scien- 
tists in  the  ascent  of  Mt.  Blanc,  but  to  the  man 
ordinary  one  would  not  think  it  would  pay,  as 
the  results  are  often  quite  serious,  even  if  one 
does  get  through  with  whole  limbs  —  the  skin 
generally  peels  from  one's  face  and  the  eyesight 
is  often  badly  affected. 

We  stepped  into  the  church  for  a  blessing 
and  back  to  our  hotel,  the  D'Angleterre,  for 
breakfast,  with  an  appetite  ready  to  devour 
anything.  The  table  is  excellent,  and  such 
butter  !  so  sweet  and  fresh,  that  one  eats  an 
extra  roll  for  the  sake  of  the  butter  with  it. 
Here  we  met  some  friends  from  America,  who 
are  to  join  us  on  our  trip  to  the  Mer  de  Glace. 
'  But  I  do  not  wish  to  ride  a  mule  ;  can  I  not  be 
carried  in  a  chair  ? '  '  No,  no,'  said  the  crowd, 
'  here  they  come,  mules  and  guides.'  '  Come 
now,  let  us  get  started  ;  you  may  have  the  first 
choice,'  said  F.  '  Six  mules  and  three  guides. 
And  is  that  what  you  engaged  ?  I  must  have 
the  whole  attention  of  one  guide.'  I  opened 
conversation  thus  with  the  oldest  man,  who 
seemed  used  to  being  questioned  :  '  Which  is 
the  easiest  trotter  ?'  '  Not  much  difference,  all 


146  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

easy.'  '  These  saddles  look  hard/  said  I.  '  The 
softest  in  Chamouni.'  I  walked  around  one 
mule,  and  he,  eying  me,  brayed  in  disapproval, 
but  by  this  time  the  rest  of  the  party  had 
mounted  the  other  five,  and  I  was  helped  to  the 
saddle  of  this  sixth  one,  wondering  how  my 
one  hundred  and  thirty  pounds  avoirdupois 
looked  at  mule-back  elevation,  not  daring  yet 
to  think  how  a  back  not  made  of  iron  might 

o 

stand  the  ordeal.  After  a  good  deal  of  merri- 
ment in  getting  started,  out  of  the  yard  we 
filed,  a  gay  party,  two  ladies  and  three  gentle- 
men, all  thinking  it  delightful  but  myself. 
For  a  while  muley  was  very  demure,  and  the 
fearless  riders  kindly  gave  to  me  the  most 
experienced  guide,  so  we  led  the  string.  The 
zigzag  path  as  we  ascended  the  mountain,  how- 
ever, grew  narrower  and  steeper,  with  now  a  big 
stone  in  the  way,  and  next  a  slippery  hole 
made  by  running  water,  and  my  beast  gave  me 
terrible  shakings  as  if  he  would  rather  '  go  it 
alone.'  The  young  people  in  the  rear  were  en- 
joying the  scenery,  and  I  could  hear  their  gay 
voices  and  exclamations  of  delight,  but  T  did 
not  think  it  such  a  good  time,  for  I  had  to  give 


LETTER    VI.  147 

my  entire  attention  to  keeping  on  my  saddle, 
such  bumps  into  the  air  that  mule  did  give  me. 
My  guide  said  he  was  young  and  playful,  and 
there  was  no  danger,  which  quite  reassured 
me,  notwithstanding  he  endeavored  to  whirl 
about  very  often,  as  if  he  had  been  stung,  or 
had  hit  his  crazy  bone,  or  stepped  on  an  elec- 
tric wire.  F.  cries  out,  *  Do  not  be  fright- 
ened ;  you  will  get  used  to  it.'  But  when  the 
creature  suddenly  jumped  from  the  hand  of 
the  guide,  a  yard  or  two  down  the  embankment, 
with  the  yawning  precipice  below,  to  eat  a 
bunch  of  green  grass  he  had  spied,  almost 
throwing  the  guide  down,  and  I  keeping  on 
only  by  holding  on  to  his  neck  with  both  arms 
for  dear  life,  I  concluded  I  would  not  wait  to 
get  used  to  it,  and  dismounted,  feeling  that 
*  shanks  mare '  was  a  safer  medium  of  locomo- 
tion than  a  Chamouni  mule.  The  creature 
knew  well  that  he  had  scored  a  victory,  shook 
his  long  ears  satisfactorily,  winked  considera- 
bly and  wisely,  and  walked  along  contentedly. 
And  so  did  I.  We  saw  many  wild  goats  and 
one  chamois,  only  that  was  in  a  little  house  and 
for  the  sight  of  it  we  had  to  pay.  We  met  a 


148  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

number  of  pedestrians  with  their  alpine  sticks, 
and  I  gathered  large  bunches  of  lovely,  bright- 
red  flowers,  called  the  mountain  rose,  somewhat 
like  our  rhododendron. 

It  took  us  about  three  hours  to  reach  the 
summit  where  the  Mer  de  Glace,  the  great  sea 
of  ice,  came  in  sight.  The  glacier  extends  for 
about  twelve  miles,  and  at  this  spot  is  about  two 
miles  wide,  a  solid  mass  of  ice  with  enormous 
cracks  and  crevices,  with  tall  ramparts,  turrets, 
and  towers  of  ice,  all  glistening  in  the  sunshine 
like  crystal,  scintillating  with  gorgeous  colors. 
From  the  hotel  piazza,  which  hotel,  a  new  one, 
stands  on  the  plateau  above  the  gorge,  the 
effect  is  dazzlingly  grand.  At  the  hotel  we 
were  provided  with  strong  alpine  sticks,  with 
socks  and  shoes,  for  walking  on  the  ice,  and 
with  fresh  guides  commenced  our  journey 
across.  It  was  difficult  getting  along  some- 
times, but  the  beauty,  strangeness,  and  fear- 
fulness  of  it  all  more  than  repaid  us  for  the 
physical  exertion.  We  were  on  the  ice,  with 
frozen  mountains  and  spires  all  about  us. 
Many  of  the  columns  and  pinnacles  and  huge 
pieces  of  ice  looked  like  crystal  cathedrals  and 


LETTER    VI.  149 

palaces.  In  other  places  it  appeared  as  if  huge 
sea  waves  had  been  instantaneously  frozen.  A 
grotto  had  been  naturally  formed,  into  which 
four  of  us  stepped.  Deep  crevasses,  hundreds 
of  feet  deep,  met  us,  some  narrow  enough  to 
leap  over,  and  others  we  passed  over  on  little 
ice  bridges  our  guides  made  for  us.  Midway 
we  halted,  looking  about  us,  lost  in  wonder  and 
amazement,  when  suddenly  we  were  brought 
back  to  everyday  life  by  a  photographer,  with 
his  camera,  suddenly  appearing  before  us  asking 
in  plain  English  if  we  would  have  our  pictures 
taken.  Where  the  man  came  from  we  did  not 
see,  nor  where  he  went  we  cared  not,  for  we 
did  not  choose  to  be  served  up  on  ice  that  day. 
We  crossed  safely  and  recrossed  at  a  different 
place,  where  the  ice  scenery  varied  as  much  as 
mountain  scenery  does  from  various  outlooks, 
and  we  felt  that  never  in  our  lives  before  had 
we  seen  anything  so  magnificent.  As  I  was 
ascending  the  jagged  points  of  the  cliff  to  step 
on  land,  something  fluttered  like  a  feather 
before  my  eyes ;  but  I  soon  saw  that  it  was  a 
butterfly ;  my  guide  caught  it  for  me,  and  I 
had,  as  my  trophy,  a  pure-white  butterfly.  My 


150  A   BUNDLE   OF   LETTERS. 

guide,  an  intelligent  fellow,  said  he  occasion- 
ally saw  gray  ones,  but  had  never  before  seen 
a  pure-white  one  there.  A  few  yards  from 
this  sea  of  ice  vegetation  flourishes,  and  almost 
at  its  very  edge  I  found  a  cluster  of  little  blos- 
soms resembling  our  (  forget-me-not,'  only  white 
instead  of  blue.  They  grew  very  close  to- 
gether, and  none  others  of  their  kind  were  to 
be  seen,  and  they  looked  as  though  they  real- 
ized that  they  had  been  left  out  in  the  cold,  far 
from  home,  and  tried  to  comfort  each  other. 

At  the  hotel  we  had  a  poor  dinner,  for  which 
we  paid  a  big  price,  but  the  magnificent  views 
we  here  had  from  the  house  piazzas  made  up 
for  it.  Clouds  began  to  thicken  and  we  made 
hasty  preparations  for  our  descent.  I  ex- 
changed mules,  and  the  last  one  proved  less 
frisky,  but  our  going  down  the  mountain 
seemed  more  hazardous  than  going  up.  Pretty 
Miss  M.,  of  Nashville,  Tennessee,  with  her 
bright  golden  hair  streaming  over  her  blue 
cloth  dress,  led  the  van  on  my  former  steed, 
who,  apparently  feeling  proud  of  his  lighter 
burden,  behaved  very  well,  but  we  had  not 
gone  far  when  the  rain  poured  as  only  it  can 


LETTER   VI.  151 

pour  in  these  mountains.  We  were  all  pro- 
vided with  umbrellas,  but  I  had  to  use  my 
hands  to  hold  on  to  the  pommel  of  my  saddle, 
for  my  mule's  hind  feet  were  higher  than  his 
front  ones,  and  I  preferred  getting  wet  to  being 
dismounted.  A  boy  had  trotted  up  the  moun- 
tain with  us,  and  kept  near  us  on  our  way  down, 
so  I  gave  him  my  umbrella,  as  it  was  impossible 
for  me  to  use  it,  to  protect  himself.  (More  of 
that  umbrella  later.)  As  we  neared  the  valley 
it  ceased  raining,  the  clouds  broke,  and  for  a 
little  while  the  sun  shone  brightly  and  sank 
slowly  in  the  west  just  as  we  entered  our  hotel 
yard,  the  young  people  exclaiming  to  those 
who  came  out  to  greet  us,  ( We  have  had 
a  charming  time,'  but  I,  with  every  article  of 
clothing  thoroughly  soaked,  and  my  body  feel- 
ing as  if  I  had  been  under  a  thrashing  machine, 
parted  with  mule  society  most  willingly. 

Of  our  guides  let  me  here  say,  in  case  you 
come  this  way  some  time,  they  were  all  careful, 
polite,  and  attentive  to  us,  and  from  mine, 
although  he  could  not  speak  one  word  of  Eng- 
lish, I  gained  considerable  information  in  regard 

7         O  O 

to  Chamouni  guides.     They  are  formed  into  a 


152  A   BUNDLE    OF   LETTERS. 

society  and  are  employed  in  rotation,  sometimes 
showing  sufficient  gallantry,  however,  to  allow 
ladies  travelling  without  gentlemen  to  choose 
their  guides,  if  for  any  reason  they  have  a 
preference.  These  men,  before  they  can  be 
accepted  by  the  club,  must  be  familiar  with  the 
mountains  and  the  glaciers  and  must  be  proven 
to  be  honest  and  reliable.  My  guide  was  evi- 
dently a  man  of  observation,  and  told  me  the 
guides  all  liked  Americans,  they  seemed  to 
enjoy  everything  so  much.  '  The  American 
ladies  look  happy ;  the  English  ladies  are  sad,' 
he  said,  probably  meaning  that  they  were  not 
as  enthusiastic,  for  the  people  of  every  country 
like  to  have  its  wonders  appreciated.  With 
aching  limbs  I  retired  early,  and  F.  thought 
manipulation,  with  a  little  hot  water  and  whis- 
key, might  ward  off  a  severe  cold,  and  I  sub- 
mitted to  the  treatment,  while  the  others,  not 
a  bit  used  up,  went  off  for  an  evening's  ramble. 
I  think  they  must  have  been  brought  up  on 
mules. 

Wednesday,  July  \\th.  —  When  we  went 
to  pay  our  bill  this  morning  we  found  amongst 
the  items  charged,  ( eight  glasses  of  whiskey.' 


LETTER    VI.  153 

'  What  does  this  mean  ? '  '  Means  that  Madame 
has  had  eight  glasses  of  whiskey.'  'There  is 
some  mistake ;  the  only  whiskey  we  have  had 
was  about  half  a  gill,  and  probably  not  that, 
brought  up  to  me  in  a  wine-glass  last  night." 
1  No,  Madame,  no  mistake  ;  we  are  very  par- 
ticular.' 'Do  I  look  like  a  woman  that  has 
had  eight  glasses  of  whiskey  ?  Take  that  off 
my  bill,  that  I  may  pay  what  I  owe  you/  said 
I,  and  I  immediately  counted  out  the  amount, 
including  one  gill  of  whiskey.  All  of  this  in 
French,  which  I  could  not  talk  fast  enough 
to  show  him  the  depth  of  my  anger.  F.  was 
getting  alarmed,  and  whispered,  '  Don't  mind ; 
do  pay  it.'  t  No,  I  will  not  pay  one  sou  of  it, 
for  we  do  not  owe  it,'  and  the  clerk,  seeing  that 
1  was  determined,  accepted  what  I  gave  him 
and  receipted  the  bill.  Now  if  that  man  was 
honest,  he  thinks  we  have  defrauded  him ;  if 
not  honest,  he  will  conclude  American  ladies 
are  business-like  at  least. 

After  this  scene  we  were  about  ready  to  jog 
along,  our  carriage  in  the  yard  waiting  for  us, 
to  which  I  went  to  deposit  some  wraps,  when 
my  boy  of  yesterday  made  his  appearance,  and 


154  A   BUNDLE   OF    LETTERS. 

said,  'I  want  my  pay  for  carrying  your  um- 
brella.' I  looked  at  him  with  the  stare  of  a 
maniac !  '  Pay !  why,  I  loaned  it  to  you,  to 
keep  you  dry.'  I  was  in  no  mood  to  be  im- 
posed upon ;  but  the  boy  began  to  cry,  so  I 
gave  him  a  penny  or  two,  and  wondered  what 
would  be  the  next  demand. 

The  carriage  which  was  to  take  us  to  Mar- 
tigny  was  like  a  buggy  with  the  top  tipped 
back,  and  a  comfortable  seat  for  us  two  and  a 
short  seat  front  of  us  for  our  driver.  Two 
good  horses  and  a  bright  morning.  Our 
tickets  had  been  purchased  for  this  trip  '  half 
way  by  mule,'  but  by  losing  something,  I  was 
enabled  to  exchange  them.  No  more  mule 
riding  for  me !  We  were  told  by  friends  that 
if  others  were  going  over  the  same  route,  by 
joining  forces  and  hiring  a  two-seated  vehicle, 
expenses  for  all  would  be  much  less.  We 
spoke  of  this  at  the  hotel  office  the  day  before, 
twice,  but  were  each  time  assured  that  there 
was  no  one  else  going,  and  consequently  our 
day's  trip  was  a  costly  one.  At  nine  A.  M.  we 
bade  our  friends,  who  were  going  on  to  Ge- 
neva, adieu,  and  saw  the  last  of  Chamouni. 


LETTER    VI.  155 

The  Swiss  are  considered  an  honest  people, 
but  they  either  show  great  carelessness  or  we 
have  several  tunes  been  cheated.  At  the 
Baths  of  St.  Gervais,  upon  paying  for  our 
dinner,  they  did  not  return  to  us  enough 
change ;  we  both  knew  they  did  not,  and  yet 
the  man  who  took  the  money  declared  they 
did,  and  as  we  had  not  time  to  contend  the 
case,  we  let  it  go.  To  be  sure,  there  is  some 
dishonesty  everywhere,  and  some  honesty  that 
is  a  little  hard  to  understand.  The  whiskey 
case  might  have  been  of  that  class ;  something 
like  the  bills  of  some  American  dressmakers, 
who,  after  charging  for  every  possible  thing 
that  could  be  used  in  making  a  dress,  modestly 
put  at  the  end  of  the  long  list :  (  Findings,  one 
dollar.'  I  have  never  been  able  to  find  out  the 
definition  of  that  word  '  findings.' 


LETTER  VII. 

MARTIGKY. 

OUR  ride  of  thirty  miles  has  been  delightful. 
There  is  no  railroad,  of  course,  from  Cha- 
mouni  to  this  place.  We  passed  many  pedes- 
trians of  both  sexes,  with  their  bags  and  water- 
proofs strapped  across  their  backs,  following 
in  a  line  like  a  row  of  ants,  apparently  having 
a  jolly  time  seeing  Switzerland  on  foot ;  also 
passed  parties  on  mules.  The  scenery  was 
glorious  all  the  way.  We  looked  back  to 
take  our  last  view  of  Mt.  Blanc  and  the  Mt. 
Blanc  range  and  the  lovely  valley  below.  Our 
road  was  good,  but  in  some  places  so  narrow, 
and  the  ravines  so  deep  on  the  one  side  and 
the  mountains  so  high  on  the  other,  that  it 
gave  us  a  little  anxiety ;  but  our  driver  was 


158  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

very  cautious,  and  soon  inspired  us  with  con- 
fidence. Up  and  down  we  went,  constantly 
seeing  new  and  wonderful  views  —  deep  gorges, 
waterfalls,  and  the  green-clad  mountains ;  and 
at  last,  through  a  tunnel  cut  through  a  solid 
rocky  point  of  the  mountain  that  blocked  the 
road,  we  came  to  Tete  Noire,  where  we  stopped 
to  refresh  man  and  beast. 

Upon  going  in  to  dinner  we  were  surprised 
to  see  there  two  ladies  whom  we  met  at  Cha- 
mouni  the  day  before,  and  who  were  travelling- 
alone  like  ourselves.  They  told  us  they  left 
at  eight  o'clock,  after  being  assured  that  no 
others  at  the  hotel  desired  to  come  with  them, 
as  far  as  was  known ;  so  they  had  a  carriage  to 
themselves  as  we  did,  when  we  should  all  have 
been  glad  to  have  made  the  trip  together. 
Was  that  a  mistake  also?  After  dinner  we 
continued  our  journey,  with  four  other  carriage 
loads  in  our  train,  which  made  the  trip  seem 
very  social  and  jolly.  We  passed  through  a 
beautiful  forest,  and  then  into  an  opening 
past  houses  far  apart,  pasture  lands,  and 
fields  of  pretty  wild  flowers.  Here  we  saw 
pansies  growing  wild  in  great  profusion,  and 


LETTER    VII.  1.")') 

the  lovely  pink,  and  crimson  yarrow.  In  our 
descent  of  the  Col  de  Forclag  we  had  a  iin:- 
view  of  the  Rhone  valley,  and  at  about  six 
p.  M.  reached  Martigny.  Switzerland  is  indeed 
mighty ;  and  its  great  mountains,  its  lakes  and 
valleys,  make  us  cry  out,  in  truth,  *  Great  is 
Thy  firmament,  0  Lord,  and  wonderful  the 
works  of  Thy  hand ! '  Martigny  is  a  small 
village  in  the  valley,  where  we  are  to  spend  the 
night. 

Thursday,  July  12th,  1888.  —  "We  can  see, 
in  the  distance,  St.  Bernard  covered  with 
snow,  and  would  like  to  see  the  celebrated 
hospice,  the  self-sacrificing  brothers  and  their 
noble  dogs,  but  shall  not  take  the  time  this 
season,  but  hope  to,  some  time.  Of  the  two 
great  gifts,  memory  and  hope,  I  know  not 
which  gives  us  the  most  satisfaction.  There 
is  but  little  of  interest  at  Martigny  —  a  good 
place  to  rest ;  and  feeling  entirely  refreshed  we 
left  at  nine  A.  M.  for  Interlaken  in  steam-cars, 
which  seem  quite  a  novelty  to  us  now.  I 
think  I  was  rather  glad  to  get  out  of  the 
mountain  region  for  a  little  while :  one's  eyes 
grow  weary  with  the  looking  up  and  the  look- 


160  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

ing  down,  and  the  mind  tired  in  the  appreci- 
ating of  so  much  sublimity  at  once.  The 
country  we  came  over  was  charming ;  fields 
of  wild  flowers  of  every  color  looking  as  if 
arranged  by  an  artistic  hand,  and  the  hillsides 
covered  with  vineyards.  Our  road,  for  a  long- 
distance, kept  near  Lake  Geneva ;  the  water 
Iqoked  as  deeply  blue  as  a  sapphire,  and  the 
sail-boats  and  steamers  passing  each  other  made 
a  pleasing  scene. 

At  Chillon  we  stopped  to  see  the  *  Castle  of 
Chillon.'  It  is  a  picturesque  old  building, 
with  turrets  and  towers,  standing  on  a  point 
of  rock  that  extends  out  into  the  lake.  Tli3 
ring  of  iron  to  which  Bonnivard  was  chained 
is  still  there ;  and  the  path  which  his  feet  wore 
in  the  stone  floor,  in  the  weary,  solitary  six 
years'  march  back  and  forth  over  those  few 
stones,  is  plainly  visible. 

'  Chillon !  thy  prison  is  a  holy  place, 

And  thy  sad  floor  an  altar,  for  'twas  trod, 

Until  his  very  steps  have  left  a  trace 
Worn,  as  if  thy  cold  pavement  were  a  sod, 

By  Bonnivard !     May  none  those  marks  efface  j 
For  they  appeal  from  tyranny  to  God/ 


LETTER    VII.  161 

It  would  be  almost  impossible  for  one  to 
keep  from  quoting  Byron's  lines  here,  for 
everything  we  see  brings  them  to  mind,  and 
on  one  of  the  pillars  is  his  name,  cut  by  his 
own  hand.  To  look  at  the  dungeons  and  cells 
makes  one's  blood  run  cold,  and  even  worse  is 
the  deep,  deep  hole  down  which  prisoners, 
untried,  were  thrown  to  fall  upon  pointed  iron 
stakes.  And  while  these  terrible  horrors  were 
being  perpetrated  below,  above  it  all,  Duke 
Victor  Amadeus  and  his  Duchess  ate,  slept, 
and  enjoyed  themselves.  Could  they  have 
been  human?  We  saw  many  implements  of 
torture,  which  made  our  heads  swim  with  pain 
even  to  look  at  them,  and  be  told  for  what 
they  had  been  used,  and  we  gladly  turned  our 
backs  upon  it  all  and  walked  out  into  God's 
sunshine,  thanking  Him,  as  never  before,  that 
we  live  in  an  age  when  such  things  are  kept 
only  as  ancient  curiosities.  This  portion  of 
'  clear,  placid  Leman '  and  the  country  around 
it  bring  forcibly  to  mind  many  portions  of 
Childe  Harold's  pilgrimage. 

Our  next  stopping  place  was  at  Lausanne, 
and  at  the  station  we  met  some  Boston  friends, 


162  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

seeing  them  just  long  enough  for  an  affection- 
ate greeting  and  to  say  good-by,  every  one  of 
us 

'  All  kind  o'  smily  round  the  lips, 
An'  teary  round  the  lashes,' 

for  home  faces  are  sweet  to  look  upon,  and  our 
own  language  sweet  to  hear,  in  this  far-away 
land.  Here  we  changed  cars  for  Berne,  and 
of  all  the  queer-looking  towns,  this  is  the 
queerest.  Having  but  a  few  hours  here,  we 
are  inclined  to  give  the  most  of  it  to  the 
bears.  The  city's  coat  of  arms  is  a  bear,  and 
pictures,  carvings  of,  and  stuffed  bears  meet 
one's  gaze  everywhere,  on  clocks,  fountains, 
towers,  houses,  and  public  buildings;  and  at 
a  restaurant  where  we  called  for  ice  cream 
Bruin's  figure  was  served  to  us  in  chocolate. 
There  is  also  a  den  containing  about  twenty 
live  bears,  who  are  sacredly  cared  for  by  the 
city  government,  and  they  walk  about  and 
climb  poles  with  more  dignity  than  common 
bears,  as  if  fully  realizing  that  they  are  '  nion- 
archs  of  all  they  survey.'  We  were  driven 
through  the  principal  streets  and  thought  the 
homes  of  the  people  looked  very  comfortable, 


LETTER    VII.  163 

with  the  outside  balconies  at  the  windows,  and 
the  red-covered  cushions  on  them,  as  if  inviting 
travellers  to  stop  and  rest.  It  happened  to  be 
cheese  market  day ;  and  in  the  middle  of  a 
square  were  long  tables  covered  with  piles  of 
cheese,  of  all  shapes  and  colors,  enough  to 
provide  the  citizens  of  the  whole  world,  for 
the  rest  of  their  lives,  '  cheese  for  their 
doughnuts.'  But  the  odor  !  It  was  not  to 
us  *  of  Araby  blest.'  There  is  a  great  deal  of 
beautiful  carved  woodwork  here,  and  how  we 
want  to  buy  everything  odd  and  pretty,  but 
oh,  those  ( duties '  to  come.  We  went  into  the 
cathedral,  which  is  a  handsome  one,  and  walked 
on  its  terrace,  from  which  we  had  a  fine  view 
of  the  river  Aar  and  distant  mountain  peaks. 
We  then  hastened  to  the  old  clock  tower,  to 
be  there  at  just  the  time  to  hear  and  see  the 
curious  old  clock  strike  the  hour  of  six.  A 
cock  steps  out  and  flaps  his  wings,  an  ogre  eats 
a  child,  and  has  his  pockets  full  of  children  in 
reserve  to  be  similarly  disposed  of,  a  troop  of 
bears  march  across  the  tower,  and  a  man 
strikes  the  number  of  the  hour  on  a  big  bell 
with  a  hammer.  These,  you  understand,  are 


164  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

all  statues  carved  of  wood,  and  move  correctly 
every  hour.  A  bearded  man  also  turns  an 
hourglass  and  counts  the  number  of  the  hour 
by  raising  a  sceptre  and  opening  his  mouth 
as  if  speaking.  One  needs  to  look  very  closely 
to  see  all  the  movements,  and  the  whole  is 
wonderfully  ingenious,  and  it  is  indeed  an  '  old 
clock,'  as  it  was  built  in  the  year  1191. 

After  leaving  Berne,  we  changed  cars  twice 
before  reaching  the  lake.  I  cannot  under- 
stand why  the  railroad  officials  of  Switzerland 
do  not  arrange  matters  to  dispense  with  so 
much  changing  from  one  car  to  another,  and 
also  to  shorten  the  delays,  unless  they  are 
desirous  of  accommodating  the  women  they 
employ,  in  giving  them  ample  time  to  finish 
whatever  they  may  be  doing  ere  they  blow 
that  horn,  which  sounded  like  a  '  Swampscott 
fish  horn,'  and  which  at  several  stations  has 
seemed  to  be  the  order  for  us  to  move.  At  one 
station  I  saw  a  woman  come  through  a  gate 
with  a  horn  or  trumpet,  or  whatever  it  may  be 
called,  and  partly  raise  it  to  her  mouth  as  if  to 
sound  the  signal  for  us  to  start,  but  suddenly, 
seeing  a  dog  scratching  up  the  earth  in  her 


LETTER    VII.  165 

garden,  ran  and  beat  the  dog  first,  then  returned 
and  tooted  loudly,  and  off  we  started.  A  short 
sail  on  Lake  Thun,  which  seemed  weird  and 
lonely,  as  it  was  by  this  time  quite  dark,  an- 
other car  ride,  and  we  see  the  lights  of  Inter- 
laken,  which  speak  to  us  of  rest,  for  we  are 
weary. 

Interlckken,  July  14£A.  —  This  is  cheerful. 
Everything  at  our  hotel,  the  Victoria,  looked 
delightfully  pleasant  to  us  this  morning  as  we 
tripped  down  stairs  as  good  as  new.  ( What  a 
pretty  front  yard,  and  do  see  all  of  these  huge 
hotels  in  a  row ;  do  you  suppose  they  are  all 
full  ? '  said  F.  Well,  Interlaken  does  seem  to 
have  hotels  enough  to  take  in  all  the  tourists 
of  the  world,  but  they  are  all  well  filled  at  this 
season.  The  shops  are  attractive,  and  the 
pretty  girls  in  them,  dressed  in  their  native 
costumes,  are  very  polite  and  seem  perfectly 
willing  to  show  their  wares  without  urging  one 
to  buy.  But  the  beautiful  embroideries  are 
temptation  enough  for  one  to  spend  money, 
without  any  words.  We  saw  in  every  shop 
handkerchiefs  more  beautiful  than  in  the  last 
we  entered,  although  we  declared  those  there, 


166  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

when  we  looked  at  them,  were  the  loveliest  that 
could  be  made.  And  the  exquisite  embroidered 
soft  white  laces  almost  make  one  want  to  be  a 
bride  to  wear  them.  Girls  and  women  are 
sitting  in  the  stores,  on  the  steps,  in  their  door 
yards,  and  in  the  parks,  all  busy  embroidering. 
We  have  a  good  view  of  the  Jungfrau  from 
our  hotel  piazza.  We  have  taken  long  walks 
in  and  about  the  town,  and  very  pleasant  ones. 
We  wandered  into  a  church  and  found  that 
one  half  of  the  building  was  used  by  the 
Presbyterians  and  the  other  half  by  the  Catho- 
lics. We  were  pleased  to  meet  some  friends 
from  Boston  here,  who  added  much  to  the 
pleasure  of  our  stay. 

July  IQth.  —  F.  has  been  with  Mr.  F.,  one 
of  our  home  friends,  over  the  Wengern  Alp 
to  Griudelwald  and  Lauterbrunnen  to  see  the 
glaciers  and  the  ice-caves.  I  declined,  not 
caring  for  another  mule  ride.  They  report 
having  had  a  fine  time,  repaid  fully  by  the 
sights  they  enjoyed,  and  rode  horses  instead  of 
mules, —  and  horses  do  have  some  consideration 
for  their  riders.  Evenings  we  have  had  '  hops' 
at  our  hotel  and  fine  music,  and  after  table 


LETTER    VII.  167 

d'hote  are  always  entertained  by  the  orchestrian 
and  the  bright-looking  little  wooden  man  that 
wields  the  baton. 

Lucerne,  July  1.7th.  —  A  short  ride  from 
Interlaken  this  morning  early  brought  us 
to  Lake  Brienz,  which  we  sailed  across,  stop- 
ping for  a  short  time  at  Giessbach  to  see  the 
falls,  which  are  formed  from  numerous  cascades. 
Their  reputation  is  the  greater  part  of  them. 
We  left  the  steamer  at  Brieuz  and  took  steam 
cars  to  travel  over  the  Brunig  Pass.  Until 
this  summer,  travellers  have  been  obliged  to 
make  this  journey  by  carriage  or  mules.  The 
new  railroad  is  narrow,  and  the  sides  of  the 
little  cars  are  of  glass,  so  that  the  scenery  all 
about  us  can  be  easily  seen.  We  crept  cau- 
tiously, slowly  along,  up  the  zigzag  road,  higher 
and  higher,  through  jagged  rocks  and  under 
them,  clasping  each  other's  hands  and  almost 
holding  our  breath,  so  fearfully  grand  did  it 
all  seem.  The  lovely  Meiringen  valley  below, 
lying  peacefully  dotted  with  pretty  villages 
and  protected  by  high  mountains  on  each  side, 
seemed  very  far  from  us,  and  the  river  running 
through  its  centre  looked  like  yards  of  silver 


168  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

ribbon  unfurled  to  beautify  some  one's  bridal 
day.  But  when  the  descent  is  safely  made  we 
almost  want  to  go  back  again,  it  was  all  so 
beautiful.  The  last  two  hours  of  our  day's 
travel  was  on  Lake  Lucerne,  the  loveliest  bit  of 
water  in  all  Europe.  A  tall,  gaunt,  masculine- 
looking  German  woman  happened  to  sit  near 
us  on  the  boat,  and  seemed  to  look  upon  us  as 
*  curiosities,'  and  to  feel  it  her  duty  on  her 
native  soil  to  give  us  some  information.  This 
woman  had  been  all  day  at  work  in  the  moun- 
tains, but  at  what  we  could  not  understand. 
Coarse  and  repulsive-looking  as  she  was,  she 
had  a  good  bit  of  the  poetic  temperament  in 
her  nature,  and  knew  every  mountain  peak 
and  bit  of  scenery  in  sight  and  the  traditions 
connected  with  them.  The  peasant  women  of 
Switzerland,  owing  to  their  toilsome  lives,  wear 
a  look  of  anxiety  and  hardness  in  their  faces 
that  a  woman's  face  ought  never  to  have.  And 
yet  there  is  no  country  in  the  world,  excepting 
our  own,  where  women  have  done  so  much  for 
the  progression,  education,  and  good  of  their 
sex.  In  Protestant  Switzerland  there  is  but 
little  begging ;  in  Catholic  Switzerland  beggars 


LETTER    VII.  169 

waylay  you  at  every  turn.  It  was  nearly  sun- 
down when  we  crossed  the  lake,  and  Mt. 
Pilatus  showed  off  well  and  did  not  disappoint 
us.  The  old  German  woman  assured  us  that 
Pontius  Pilate  fled  there  from  Jerusalem, 
heart-broken,  and  ended  his  life  by  throwing 
himself  into  the  lake  :  l  See,  right  in  that  spot,' 
she  said,  l  he  threw  himself ! '  Then  as  if 
reflecting,  added,  '  But  Pilate  did  what  was  — 
what  he  had  to  do.'  All  this  she  spoke  in 
German,  and  I  have  given  you  the  literal  trans- 
lation. Who  shall  say  that  woman  was  not  a 
philosopher  ?  Pointing  in  another  direction  she 
said,  '  That  is  where  Kriss  Kringle  was  born. 
Does  he  come  down  the  chimneys  in  America  ? 
It  is  well  for  children  to  know  him.'  And 
this  woman  of  sentiment  and  feeling  worked 
daily  out  of  doors.  The  scenery  from  Lake 
Lucerne  is  indeed  beautiful  and  is  full  of  glori- 
ous associations,  for  it  was  about  here  that  the 
struggle  was  made  for  the  liberty  and  freedom 
of  Switzerland  and  her  people.  The  mountains 
all  about  us,  the  stately  chateaux,  the  pretty 
chalets,  old  watch  towers,  castle  ruins,  and  the 
green  foliage  about  them,  the  beautiful  lake, 


170  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

and  the  steamers  going-  and  coining,  make  a 
peaceful,  restful  scene.  The  sun  sinks  almost 
out  of  sight,  and  all  at  once,  as  a  surprise,  we 
turn,  and  are  at  the  city  of  Lucerne. 


LETTER  VIII. 

LUCEKNE,  July  18th,  1888. 

IN  going  to  the  breakfast-room  this  morn- 
ing I  saw,  in  a  pantry  we  passed,  some  real 
cucumbers,  green  and  fresh  looking,  as  if 
they  had  just  been  picked  in  a  garden  I  am 
thinking  of,  not  a  hundred  miles  from  Boston. 
My  mouth  fairly  watered  for  a  few  crisp  slices. 
I  had  a  conversation  with  my  table  waiter 
about  them,  who  thoughl^t  might  be  possible 
to  get  some  for  me.  I  waited  patiently  with 
refreshing  anticipations,  but  when  they  came 
their  crispness  had  departed  :  they  were  soaked 
in  oil.  I  longed  to  go  into  that  kitchen  and 
teach  the  cook  how  to  serve  cucumbers.  But 
making  the  most  of  the  hard  bread,  which  I 
very  much  dislike,  and  it  is  the  same  all  over 


172  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

the  Continent  —  crust  an  inch  thick,  and  the 
passable  beefsteak  and  poor  coffee,  we  got 
through  our  morning  meal.  We  soon  forgot 
our  disappointment  at  breakfast  in  the  delight 
of  getting  letters.  Oh  how  glad  to  read 
them,  and  no  bad  news.  Now  we  can  go  out 
sight-seeing,  stronger  and  happier  than  ever. 
Lucerne  is  beautifully  situated  on  both 
banks  of  the  river  Reuss,  with  the  lake  in 
front,  and  has  many  attractions,  I  think.  The 
lake,  this  clear  morning,  looked  so  luring  that 
the  first  thing  we  enjoyed  was  a  sail  to  Flu- 
ellen,  where  we  took  carriage  for  Altorf,  the 
village  made  classic  forever  by  the  heroic  deeds 
of  William  Tell.  The  spots  of  ground  where 
his  son  was  placed  and  where  Tell  stood  when 
he  shot  the  apple  from  the  boy's  head  w-ro 
shown  us.  In  our^chool  days,  Tell  was  over 
one  of  our  favorite  patriots,  and  we  fear  wo 
always  felt  glad  of  that  hidden  second  arrow, 
which  was  to  have  shot  the  tyrant  Gessler  if 
the  first  had  killed  his  boy.  On  our  return  to 
lucerne  we  saw  the  old  castle  of  Hapsburg, 
once  the  summer  home  of  Wagner.  The  king 
of  the  sights  of  the  town  is,  however,  the 


LETTER    VIII.  173 

Lion  of  Lucerne.  This  piece  of  sculpture  is, 
as  everybody  knows,  a  monument  to  the  brave 
Swiss  guards  of  whom  we  thought  so  much 
about  at  Versailles.  The  beast  is  twenty-eight 
feet  long,  magnificent  in  proportions,  and  cut 
out  in  relief  on  the  face  of  the  natural  rock. 
He  is  wounded  by  a  spear,  and  dying,  but 
making  a  desperate  struggle,  even  in  death, 
to  protect  the  shield  of  France.  There  is  a 
pathetic  expression  in  the  expiring  creature's 
face  that  is  almost  human.  Ivy  and  running 
vines  cover  the  sides  of  much  of  the  huge 
rock  about  him,  and  at  its  foot  is  a  pond  of 
clear  water  in  which  the  whole  is  reflected. 
The  lion  was  designed  by  Thorwaldsen,  the 
noted  Danish  sculptor,  who  was  born  in  Copen- 
hagen, and  whose  Reliefs  of  the  Seasons,  and 
his  Day  and  Night,  are  familiar  to  you  from 
the  photographs.  ( We  cannot  let  our  eagle 
scream  here,  F.,'  said  I ;  '  Cogswell  fountains 
do  not  equal  this.' 

We  went  into  the  Glacier  Garden  and  saw 
the  bas-relief  of  Central  Switzerland,  modelled 
from  nature  by  General  Pfyffer  one  hundred 
and  forty  years  ago ;  and  were  then  driven  to 


171  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

the  old  cathedral,  where  there  is  a  fine  organ 
handled  by  a  noted  organist  every  evening.  It 
is  quite  the  fashion  for  visitors  in  the  place  to 
flock  there  to  hear  the  music  after  dinner ;  but 
we,  not  liking  the  rooms  given  us  at  our  hotel, 
'  The  Swan,'  although  undoubtedly  they  did 
for  us  the  best  they  could,  and  as  we  could  not 
get  into  the  Schweizerhof  at  all,  the  best  hotel 
in  the  place,  have  decided  to  leave  this  after- 
noon. Our  last  act  of  sight-seeing  was  the  old 
covered  bridge,  in  which  there  are  over  a  hun- 
dred pictures,  scenes  of  Switzerland's  history 
and  pictures  of  saints,  although  some  of  them 
did  not  look  very  saintly.  There  are  four 
bridges  across  the  river, —  two  modern,  and 
the  other  two  very  ancient  and  curious. 

Went  to  Vitzman  by  boat,  then  took  front 
seats  on  a  platform  car  to  ascend  the  Rigi. 
Only  one  car  is  sent  up  at  a  time,  and  that  is 
driven  by  steam  power.  The  railway  seems 
to  be  the  same  as  any  narrow-gauge  road, 
but  between  the  outside  rails  are  two  other 
rails  quite  near  each  other,  in  which  a  cog- 
wheel, which  is  under  the  engine,  runs  or 
works.  We  ascend  slowly,  leaving  the  lake 


LETTER    VIII.  175 

and  the  towns  far  below  us,  and  beyond  and 
above  us  are  the  mountain  peaks.  We  go 
through  a  tunnel  and  across  a  deep  yawning 
ravine  on  an  iron  bridge ;  and  the  scenery  is 
beautiful  all  around  us,  which  we  can  fully 
enjoy  at  our  ease,  as  there  are  no  dangerous 
places  and  no  frisky  mules  to  distract  one's 
attention.  We  pass  many  tourists,  but  the 
path  must  appear  almost  endless  to  them,  for 
it  seems  to  us,  even  at  our  speed,  that  the  top 
of  the  mountain  grows  farther  away.  But  at 
last  we  reach  our  hotel,  the  Rigi  Kulm,  above 
the  clouds.  Would  we  could  always  rise  above 
them  so  delightfully  !  It  was  very  cold,  so  we 
put  on  all  the  wraps  we  had,  and  started  out 
for  views  from  the  Rigi.  Just  imagine  your- 
self on  the  very  top  of  this  high  mountain, 
which  juts  up  towards  the  heavens  like  a  '  pop- 
over'  in  a  hot  oven.  In  the  valley  below  we 
can  count  eight  lakes,  and  the  many  towns  so 
far  below  us  look  like  the  little  wooden  villages 
made  of  blocks  for  children  to  play  with. 
Looking  beyond  in  all  directions,  we  see  moun- 
tains towering  up  to  the  sky  —  Rocky  Pilatus, 
the  snow-clad  range  of  the  Bernese  Alps,  and 


176  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

the  green  Bigi  group  close  about  us.  We  see 
the  rugged  heights  of  the  Silberhorn,  the  three 
peaks  of  the  Wetterhorn,  and,  grandest  of  all, 
the  Finsteraarhorn.  What  a  personal  interest 
we  have  in  these  peaks  of  Switzerland  as  soon 
as  we  know  them. 

The  mountain  was  covered  with  travellers, 
like  ourselves,  enjoying  the  views  and  antici- 
pating a  gorgeous  sunset,  as  there  was  scarcely 
a  cloud  to  be  seen.  I  sat  on  the  grass  near 
the  edge  of  the  mountain  wondering  at  the 
extent  of  this  magnificent  panorama,  when  I 
felt  a  weight  on  my  shoulder ;  turning  quickly 
a  cow  raised  her  head  from  the  resting  place 
she  had  chosen  and  looked  at  me  in  a  way  that 
said,  *  Why  did  you  move  ?  '  A  little  later  we 
met  Mr.  W.,  of  New  York,  and  his  handsome 
German  doctor,  who  added  greatly  to  our  plea- 
sure during  the  rest  of  our  stay  here.  Seeing 
a  boy  with  some  freshly  picked  wild  flowers, 
and  an  edelweiss  among  them,  I  asked  where 
he  found  it,  and  wandered  off  in  the  direction 
indicated,  anxious  to  pick  for  myself  one  of 
these  blossoms.  We  had  bought  them  fresh,  we 
had  bought  them  dried,  and  the  semblance  of 


LETTER    VIII.  177 

them  in  all  sorts  of  ornaments,  but  not  one  had 
I  seen  growing.  I  clambered  down  the  steep 
and  rocky  path,  and  was  rewarded  after  a 
long  search  by  finding  two  of  these  flowers 
which  the  Swiss  love  so  well,  and  I  victoriously 
exhibited  them  to  my  friends  as  I  met  them 
coming  in  search  of  me.  We  grouped  our- 
selves on  a  high  platform,  built  on  the  summit, 
which  was  already  weU  crowded,  to  see  the  sun 
go  down.  But  why  do  we  get  up  here  ?  we 
were  high  enough  before.  Because  it  is  the 
thing  to  do,  and  here  is  glass  of  every  color  to 
look  through.  But  I  only  wish  to  see  it  all  in 
its  natural  colors.  How  the  wind  blows,  and 
how  cold  it  is !  There  goes  the  Doctor's  hat. 
No  use  to  try  to  recover  it ;  it  is  dashing  on  to 
see  where  the  sun  goes  to.  Put  this  wrap  over 
your  head,  Doctor. 

Look,  look !  The  great  ball  of  fire  was 
sinking  to  the  edge  of  the  horizon,  which  was 
streaked  gorgeously  with  crimson  and  gold. 
Golden  tints  fell  far  and  near,  upon  valley, 
lakes,  and  mountains,  and  the  white  robes  of 
the  snow-clad  peaks,  were  changed  to  rose.  All 
voices  were  hushed,  for  a  spectacle  so  sublime 


178  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

awakened  in  every  one  emotions  too  deep  for 
words.  Lower  and  lower,  until  only  a  great 
gold  shield  remained,  and  soon  all  light  was 
gone,  and  the  shadows  covered  us.  '  These 
are  Thy  works  also,  0  God,  for  Thou  didst 
make  the  heavens  and  the  earth.' 

Stiff  with  cold,  we  hurried  to  our  hotel, 
whose  lights  twinkled  cheerfully  for  us  in  the 
distance,  and  a  good  dinner,  with  warm  drinks, 
soon  thawed  us  into  a  comfortable  condition. 
After  dinner  we  tried  to  find  a  room  heated 
sufficiently  for  us  to  remain  in  and  not  freeze, 
but  there  was  none.  Large,  handsome  parlors 
and  corridors,  but  all  as  cold  as  ice-caves. 
The  proprietors  of  this  house  make  a  great 
mistake  in  not  providing  fires  for  the  comfort 
of  their  guests;  and  for  the  very  lack  of  this 
necessity  to  one's  health,  we  decided  to  leave 
as  early  as  possible  in  the  morning.  After  a 
brisk  promenade  through  the  hall  with  our 
friends,  we  bade  them  good-night,  promising 
to  rise  at  the  sound  of  the  alpine  horn  and 
meet  them  in  the  parlor,  to  go  out  and  see  the 
rising  of  the  sun,  which  they  assured  us  would 
be  far  more  wonderful  than  its  setting.  '  Now 


LETTER    VIII.  179 

you  will  be  sure  to  be  on  hand,'  said  Mr.  W. 
1 1  would  not  have  you  miss  it  for  anything. 
I  have  a  fur  coat  here  which  I  will  unpack  to 
put  about  you ;  you  will  have  to  rise  at  three 
o'clock,  you  know.'  '  0  yes,  I  will  surely  be 
ready.  We  have  come  far  to  see  the  sun  rise 
on  the  Rigi,  and  I  must  not  miss  it.  Good- 
night,' and  off  we  go  to  our  room  at  the  very 
top  of  the  house.  Just  hear  the  wind  roar. 

Our  chamber  was  cold,  our  chambermaid 
colder,  and  upon  our  asking  her  for  more  bed 
covering  she  undoubtedly  reached  the  freezing- 
point  somewhere,  for  she  disappeared  and  we 
saw  her  not  again.  After  prolonged  and  vigo- 
rous ringings  of  our  bell,  a  petrified-looking 
boy  appeared,  but  he  manifested  some  signs 
of  life  as  our  money  touched  his  palm,  and  we 
succeeded  in  coaxing  him  to  bring  us  an  extra 
feather  bed.  That  bed  was  warm,  and  as  our 
own  was  cold  and  clammy,  I  felt  pretty  sure  the 
boy  gave  us  his  own  bed.  But  I  was  grateful, 
and  he  was  satisfied  with  the  bargain. 

1  Get  up,  and  dress  as  soon  as  you  can,'  said 
F.,  holding  a  ghostly  candle  in  front  of  my 
face.  '  Up !  why  I  had  just  got  to  sleep.' 


180  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

1  The  alpine  horn  has  sounded,  and  you  must  see 
the  sun  rise.'  'No,  I  am  just  beginning  to  get 
warm  ;  what  does  it  rise  at  this  unheard-of  time 
for  ? '  '  There,  Mr.  W.  is  calling  us  outside  our 
door  ;  do  come,  hurry.'  l  No ! '  The  horn  tooted 
most  unmusically.  I  was  too  tired  and  sleepy, 
with  a  bad  cold  thrown  in,  to  care  whether  the 
sun  ever  rose  or  not.  I  had  had  too  hard  work 
to  get  a  comfortable  resting  place,  to  have  no 
benefit  from  it,  so  off  F.  went,  and  I  knew  no 
more  until  seven  o'clock,  when  she  exasperat- 
ingly  informed  me  of  what  a  delightful  time 
they  had,  that  the  sun  setting  was  not  to  be 
compared  in  glory  to  its  rising,  that  it  was  a 
wonderful  revelation,  and  that  I  had  persistently 
refused  to  enjoy  it.  0  dear !  why  will  people 
always  tell  you  that  the  sights  you  do  not  see 
are  those  the  best  worth  seeing. 

Thursday,  July  ~L9th,  1888.  —  Although  we 
ordered  our  breakfast  last  night,  it  was  not 
ready  for  us  when  we  went  to  the  dining- 
room.  ( Very  sorry,  some  mistake,'  said  the 
waiter ;  but  that  did  not  give  us  our  breakfast, 
and  it  was  nearly  time  for  the  car  to  leave. 
We  choked  down  some  cold  bread  and  half- 


LETTER    VIII.  181 

made  coffee,  and  rushed,  meeting  a  waiter 
just  bringing  our  hot  rolls  and  chops,  which 
we  had  paid  for  when  we  settled  our  bill  the 
night  before.  I  took  out  a  clean  napkin  from 
my  bag,  and  took  from  him  our  breakfast, 
wrapped  it  in  my  napkin,  and  said  good-morn- 
ing to  the  half -dazed  man,  who  ejaculated  just 
one  word,  which  sounded  like  '  whew.'  Our 
friends  were  at  the  car  to  see  us  off,  and  tried 
to  exchange  their  tickets  for  some  that  would 
take  them  our  route,  but  could  not,  so  good- 
bys  were  said,  and  off  we  pushed  to  descend 
the  Rigi.  We  have  been  unusually  fortunate 
in  having  such  perfect  weather  for  this  moun- 
tain trip.  This  morning  is  lovely.  We  move 
cautiously  down  a  road,  on  the  opposite  side 
from  the  one  we  went  up,  so  all  views  are  new 
to  us.  We  soon  reached  Lake  Zug.  Our  car 
conductor  gracefully  saluted  us  as  we  left  his 
care  to  take  the  boat.  These  Swiss  conductors 
have  a  pretty  custom  of  always  saluting  each 
other  when  they  meet,  also. 

We  crossed  the  lake  to  the  city  of  Zug. 
Had  two  hours  to  wait  there,  so  walked  about 
the  queer  little  town.  Wandered  into  a  church 


182  A    1JU>TJ)LK    OF    LETTERS. 

whore  >voro  several  good  pictures.  GJI  our  way 
back  to  tho  station  we  stepped  into  a  neat- 
looking  wayside  inn  and  called  for  a  bottle  of 
wine  to  go  with  our  Rigi  spoils  for  a  lunch- 
eon. The  proprietress  and  her  fair  daughter 
seemed  much  interested  in  us.  We  spread 
out  our  luncheon  on  a  clean  tablecloth,  were 
served  with  delicious  butter  and  honey,  and 
enjoyed  it  at  our  leisure.  With  the  curiosity 
of  the  sex,  these  women  wondered  who  and 
what  we  were.  Our  dress  was  strange  to  them, 
and  our  language  stranger.  We  told  them  we 
were  from  America,  and  were  travelling  to  see 
their  country.  *  Wo  ist  der  Herr,'  asked  the 
woman.  'We  have  none,'  we  answered.  '  Mein 
Gott ! '  said  she.  We  hear  no  more  French 
spoken  now  ;  all  German. 

Our  next  stopping  place  was  Zurich,  where 
we  had  a  good  table  d'hote  dinner,  and  then 
pushed  on  to  Schaffhausen,  where  we  alight 
for  the  Falls  of  the  Rhine,  and  ride  in  a  car- 
riage about  two  miles  to  our  hotel,  '  The 
SchweizerhofrV  This  house,  with  all  its  ap- 
pointments, is  the  best  we  have  yet  seen  in  all 
Europe.  It  is  situated  in  the  midst  of  beauti- 


LETTER    VIII.  183 

ful  grounds,  on  the  bank  of  the  Rhine,  with 
the  falls  in  full  sight.  Our  room  was  not  only 
comfortable,  but  approached  elegance,  and  the 
long  windows  opened  on  to  a  veranda  where 
stood  two  large,  soft  easy-chairs,  as  if  waiting 
to  welcome  us,  and  give  us  the  best  pictures 
of  the  country  about.  Making  a  hasty  toilette, 
we  went  down  stairs  and  out  on  to  the  piazza, 
where  sat  at  their  ease  a  distinguished-appear- 
ing company  to  see  the  falls,  which  our  guide- 
book had  told  us  were  the  largest  in  Europe. 

In  front  of  us,  at  the  foot  of  the  garden,  ran 
the  river,  and  a  little  to  the  right  was  a  small 
rapid,  apparently  about  as  high  as  the  fall  of 
water  that  I  used  to  see  running  a  saw-mill  on 
the  East  Taunton  road,  but  not  for  an  instant  did 
we  suppose  that  those  were  ( the  falls.'  *  Will 
you  please  tell  me  where  the  Falls  of  the  Rhine 
are  ? '  I  asked  a  lady  near  me.  The  woman 
looked  dazed,  and  turned  toward  me  to  see  if  I 
was  blind,  but  politely  answered,  '  Why,  there 
they  are  ! '  Impulsively,  with  a  disgusted  tone, 
I  exclaimed,  so  disappointed  was  I,  *  Those  the 
Rhine  Falls!  Well,  just  think  of  Niagara.' 
*  Sh  —  sh,'  said  F.,  '  you  are  forever  waving 


184  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

the  stars  and  stripes.'  If  the  house  arid  place 
had  not  given  us  so  much  pleasure  we  should 
have  felt  our  time  wasted  in  coming  here,  but 
these  exceed  our  expectations.  The  cuisine 
was  simply  perfect,  and  at  table  we  were 
served  by  pretty,  rosy-cheeked  Swiss  maids, 
dressed  in  white  skirts,  full-sleeved  white 
waists  and  black  velvet  bodices,  and  looking 
as  fresh  and  sweet  as  pinks.  They  moved, 
as  if  one  person,  to  the  sound  of  a  bell,  doing 
entirely  away  with  long  waits  between  courses, 
and  every  dish  brought  to  us  was  most  deli- 
cious. 

Friday,  July  20th.  —  We  had  our  break- 
fast served  on  the  broad  piazza,  fronting  the 
Rhine,  by  our  pleasant  Swiss  girl  this  morning, 
and  the  fragrance  from  the  sweet  flowers  about 
us  brought  memories  of  the  orange  groves  in 
Florida  where  we  stood  only  a  few  months  ago. 
Time  and  steam  do  wonders.  Hoping  to  con- 
sider the  falls  a  less  disappointment  on  a  closer 
approach  to  them,  we  decided  to  go  to  their 
very  centre  in  a  boat.  About  in  the  middle  of 
them  stands  a  rock,  on  which  has  been  erected 
a  pavilion,  and  to  which  boatmen  are  ready  to 


LETTER    VIII.  185 

take  passengers  at  all  times.  We  reached  the 
landing  safely,  through  currents  and  whirlpools, 
and  the  rapids  themselves  did  appear  o£  much 
greater  magnitude  on  closer  proximity,  but  I 
doubt  their  being  the  largest  in  Europe.  The 
town  of  Schaffhausen  is  very  ancient,  with  its 
queer  old  houses,  gateways,  and  walls.  On  the 
old  bell  of  the  cathedral  is  an  inscription, 
which  translated  means,  i  I  call  the  living :  I 
mourn  the  dead :  I  break  the  thunder ; '  which 
it  is  said,  prompted  Schiller  to  write  the  ex- 
quisite verses  of  ' The  Song  of  the  Bell.' 

Saturday)  July  2~Lst.  —  Yes,  the  Schweizer- 
hoff  is  a  haven  of  rest,  and  had  we  time,  we 
should  like  to  tarry  longer.  We  are  close 
to  Germany  now,  and  must  see  something  of 
it,  but  I  fear  the  majestic  scenery  of  Switz- 
erland has  spoiled  us  for  any  scenery  of  less 
beauty.  The  proprietors  of  these  Swiss  hotels 
have  a  custom  of  giving  to  each  departing  lady 
guest  a  bouquet.  Mine  this  morning  was  un- 
usually beautiful,  and  when  I  said  to  the  giver, 
i  We  have  really  been  charmed  with  your  house,' 
a  pretty  picture  of  the  place  was  added  to  the 
first  offering.  To  the  omnibus  in  which  we  rode 


186 


A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 


to  the  station  from  the  hotel,  was  harnessed, 
as  our  leader,  an  immense  cream-colored  bull, 
a  handsome  creature,  truly  huge  in  his  pro- 
portions. I  doubt  if  I  shall  admire  Paul  Potter's 
as  much. 

In  our  car  we  had  as  our  only  travelling  com- 
panions two  priests,  with  their  long,  flowing 
gowns  and  big  hats.  They  continually  prayed 
and  crossed  themselves  for  a  while,  and  we 
feared  that  they  did  not  realize  that  we  were 
also  two  human  beings  and  Christians,  so  en- 
tirely did  they  ignore  us.  But  after  a  time  they 
looked  up,  and  we  found  an  occasion  to  make 
a  remark  to  them,  which  opened  the  way  for 
a  conversation,  although  a  limited  one,  as 
they  could  not  understand  one  word  of  Eng- 
lish, and  we  stumbled  much  in  German,  but  they 
were  very  bright,  and  looked  over  with  us  our 
German  conversation  book,  and  we  made  quite 
a  merry  party.  Our  route  was  through  and 
over  the  Black  Forest  mountains,  said  to  be  the 
most  picturesque  of  all  mountains.  We  passed 
through  numerous  tunnels,  some  very  long  ones, 
and  in  utter  darkness,  as  they  did  not  light  the 
cars  at  all,  giving  one  a  good  chance  to  think 


LETTER    VIII.  187 

of  all  the  terrible  accidents  one  ever  heard  of, 
and  making  one  feel  all  the  time  as  if  some- 

O 

thing  dreadful  might  happen.  I  never  did  like 
to  be  in  the  dark,  unless  as  a  tired  child  with 
my  mother's  arms  close  about  me.  When  not 
underground,  which  seemed  but  little  of  the 
time,  the  scenery  we  saw  was  bold  and  memora- 
ble. The  whole  region  of  this  Black  Forest  is 
full  of  traditional  stories,  and  we  stretched  our 
necks  as  we  turned  precipitous  corners,  hoping 
to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  '  Black  Huntsman  ' 
dashing  down  the  dizzy  heights  back  of  us  or  in 
the  green  valleys  below.  We  saw  two  castles, 
and  a  huge  monastery,  '  built  on  a  rock '  on  a 
high  elevation.  And  now,  being  in  the  mood, 
I  think  I  will  tell  you  of  something  we  saw 
later, —  a  cavern  which  is  called  '  The  Noble 
Lady's  Grave,'  and  this  is  the  story  which 
shows  why  so  named,  as  told  to  us,  or  at  least 
the  main  points :  '  The  husband  of  the  lady 
left  her  alone  in  their  home  in  the  Black 
Forest,  with  only  her  attendants  for  society, 
and,  of  course,  she  being  of  noble  birth,  could 
not  {  chum  '  much  with  her  servants.  He  left 
her  thus  to  join  the  Crusades.  She  pleaded 


188  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

with  all  a  loving  wife's  earnestness  for  him  to 
remain  with  her,  but  without  avail.  It  looks 
as  if  the  knight  cared  more  for  glory  than 
for  his  better  half,  but  may  be,  let  us  be  chari- 
table, '  he  had  business  she  could  not  under- 
stand,' or  perhaps  l  he  had  to  meet  a  man,'  as 
many  of  the  self-sacrificing  husbands  of  our 
own  time  are  obliged  to  do,  greatly  to  their 
own  discomfort,  but  '  duty  is  duty,  you  know.' 
At  any  rate  he  tore  himself  away  from  her 
clinging  arms,  in  spite  of  tears  and  entreaties, 
undoubtedly  hoping  to  cover  himself  with  glory 
in  the  holy  city.  Perhaps  he  had  wearied  of 
the  gloom,  dismalness,  and  monotony  of  life 
in  the  Black  Forest,  and  '  needed  a  change.' 
His  wife,  of  course,  had  more  resources  for 
pleasure;  she  could  do  the  mending  of  the 
family,  tell  the  cook  what  to  have  for  dinner, 
and  go  to  church  and  give  thanks  for  so  brave 
a  husband,  and  offer  prayers  for  his  welfare. 
The  lonely,  noble  lady  did  all  of  these  things 
most  faithfully  for  a  while,  but  they  soon 
ceased  to  be  entertaining,  and  life  itself  grew 
wearisome.  There  was  no  mail  to  be  expected 
in  those  days,  no  letters  to  answer,  no  pro- 


LETTER    VIII.  189 

gressive  euchre  parties,  no  Browning  clubs, 
no  sewing  circles,  no  amateur  theatricals,  and 
not  even  a  neighbor  to  talk  about,  and  no 
one  to  talk  about  the  neighbors  with.  Poor 
forlorn  woman  !  Worn  and  weary  with  the 
watching  and  the  waiting,  '  He  cometh  not/ 
she  said.  Her  crusader  most  selfishly  tarried 
too  long.  But  one  fine  day  somebody's  else 
crusader  came  along,  and  just  as  the  noble 
lady  was  packing  her  '  Saratoga '  to  fly  with 
him  to  the  lands  where  loneliness  and  the 
*  blues  '  were  unknown,  her  own  lawful  crusa- 
der appeared,  killed  her  would-be  rescuer,  and 
shut  the  poor,  out-of -patience  wife  up  in  this 
cave  in  the  hillside,  which  was  her  prison  liv- 
ing and  her  grave  when  dead. 

After  the  descent  of  the  Black  Forest  range 
was  made,  we  struck  into  pretty,  green  valleys, 
where  women,  young  girls,  and  children  were 
making  hay,  —  Gretchens  and  Maud  Miillers. 
Oxen  and  cows  were  used  instead  of  horses, 
and  I  saw  two  women  harnessed  into  a  hay-cart, 
which  was  loaded  with  hay,  and  a  man  riding 
comfortably  on  top,  smoking  his  pipe.  I 
would  have  liked  to  have  seen  him  fall  off,  but 
I  was  told  that  men  at  home,  in  this  part  of  the 


190  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

world,  are  so  few,  that  the  women  give  them 
the  easy  places,  and  work  for  them,  and  coddle 
and  pet  them  to  their  hearts'  content.  The 
large  majority  of  the  men  are  away  at  the  bar- 
racks. The  homes  of  the  working  people,  just 
here,  look  as  if  intended  to  illustrate  a  revised  edi- 
tion of  '  the  happy  family.'  Human  beings,  both 
sexes,  of  several  generations,  judging  from  the 
very  old  looking  women  and  the  few  old  men, 
and  the  little  babies  we  see,  with  horses,  cattle, 
sheep,  pigs,  and  hens,  all  live  under  one  outside 
upper  roof,  having  perhaps  the  choice  of  apart- 
ments inside.  The  door-yards  look  neat,  but 
without  exception,  every  house  has  somewhere 
near  the  never-to-be-missed  fertilizer  pile,  often 
higher  than  the  house,  and  generally  the 
bigger  the  house  the  bigger  the  pile.  Stocks 
up,  they  sell ;  stocks  down,  they  buy.  Financial 
excitements,  you  see,  are  necessary  even  here. 
The  houses  are  never  painted,  and  the  roofs 
are  covered  with  straw.  At  one  station  where  we 
changed  cars  we  saw  a  group  of  Alsatian  women 
with  the  genuine  Alsatian  bows  on  their  heads 
instead  of  bonnets.  The  bows  were  made  of  some 
black  material,  and  I  think  must  have  measured 
fully  one  yard  from  one  end  to  the  other. 


LETTER  IX. 

HOTEL  DE  LA  VILLE  DE  PARIS,  STRASSBUBG. 

MY  DEAR :  Strassburg  is  a  larger  city 

than  I  had  expected  to  see,  and  some  parts 
of  it  are  very  fine.  The  university  buildings 
are  handsome,  as  are  many  others.  The  great 
cathedral,  however,  is  the  one  particular  object 
of  interest.  We  first  took  a  look  at  the 
exterior,  and  many  looks,  for  its  beauties  are 
manifold.  The  carvings,  statues,  and  bas- 
reliefs  are  magnificent,  as  are  also  the  towers, 
turrets,  and  the  spire.  The  west  front,  so 
called,  has  a  rose  window,  and  on  each  side  of 
this  window  is  a  large  square  tower.  The 
entire  fagade  is  most  exquisitely  sculptured. 
1  But  oh  ! '  said  F.,  '  do  look  up  at  the  spire  ; 
does  it  seem  possible  any  object  so  elaborate 
and  graceful  could  be  made  of  stone  ? '  The 


192  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

height  of  this  spire  is  nearly  five  hundred  feet. 
It  looks  so  light  and  airy,  so  like  a  wonderfully 
executed  piece  of  filagree  work,  towering 
towards  the  clouds,  that  I  fear  you  cannot 
imagine  its  beauty  from  a  hasty  description.  It 
has  been  said  to  look  like  'lace  work,'  and 
the  building  itself,  so  fine  are  its  carvings  and 
sculptures,  said  'to  look  as  if  it  were  placed 
behind  a  rich,  open,  flower-like  screen,  or  in  a 
case  of  open-work  stone,'  and  these  comparisons 
will,  I  think,  convey  to  you  a  little  idea  of  its 
general  appearance,  and  you  will  be  spared 
the  lameness  of  neck  that  I  suffered,  from 
the  long  stretch  in  looking  up.  Even  in  this 
land  of  art,  architecture,  music,  sculpture,  and 
poetry,  we  are  often  reminded  that  flesh,  mus- 
cle, and  nerves  need  some  consideration.  This 
church  is  indeed  a  rare  poem,  an  epic  of  the 
first  water,  and  its  author,  the  architect,  was 
Erwin  von  Steinbach,  whose  tomb  is  in  one  of 
the  chapels.  F.,  anxious  to  do  the  most  daring 
things,  decided  to  ascend  the  spire  by  way  of 
the  spiral  staircase  ;  I  declined.  She  ascended 
and  descended  with  a  level  head,  and  declared 
she  would  not  have  missed  the  sights,  for  any- 


LETTER    IX.  193 

thing,  of  the  closer  view  of  the  stone-work,  and 
of  the  panoramic  picture  from  the  elevation. 
Of  the  interior  I  shall  not  tell  you  much,  but 
its  rich,  elegant  carvings,  its  beautiful  stained- 
glass  windows,  its  clusters  of  pillars,  its  ornately 
sculptured  pulpit,  were  objects  of  our  great 
enthusiasm  and  delight. 

Of  the  wonderful  clock  I  will  tell  you  a  lit- 
tle. This  astronomical  clock  is  in  the  south 
transept,  and  tells  not  only  the  time  of  the 
day  but  indicates  every  event  connected  with 
astronomical  phenomena,  like  the  changes  of 
the  moon,  the  seasons,  the  church  calendar, 
and  so  forth.  A  child  strikes  the  quarter  of 
the  hour,  a  youth  the  half  hour,  a  young 
man  the  third  quarter,  and  an  aged  man, 
tottering  slowly,  comes  and  touches  the  bell 
with  his  staff,  and  passes  on,  soon  followed  by 
the  figure  of  Death,  who  strikes  the  full  hour 
with  a  human  bone  ;  and  just  then,  the  figures 
representing  the  twelve  Apostles  march  in 
front  of  a  statue  of  the  Saviour,  who  bends  to 
give  each  one  his  blessing,  and  a  cock  crows 
loudly  thrice,  while  another  figure  —  Time  — 
turns  an  hour-glass,  for  running  of  the  sand 


194  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

to  indicate  the  next  hour.  It  is  all  extremely 
ingenious  and  interesting.  The  clock  has 
been  partly  reconstructed,  as  it  is  said  the 
original,  made  in  1448,  was  partially  destroyed 
by  the  maker.  The  legend  runs  that  the 
genius  who  invented  and  made  this  wonderful 
structure  of  mechanism  for  Strassburg  was 
urged  to  make  one  for  another  town.  The 
Strassburgers  becoming  jealous,  sent  for  the 
clock-maker,  and  requested  him  to  give  his 
promise  that  he  would  never  make  another; 
but  this  he  refused  to  do,  which  so  angered 
them  they  gave  an  order  to  have  the  poor 
man's  eyes  put  out.  Hearing  of  this  terrible 
crime  which  was  soon  to  be  inflicted  upon 
him,  he  offered  to  make  a  few  necessary  repairs 
on  the  clock  before  losing  his  eyesight.  As 
soon  as  he  had  done  this,  his  eyes  were  forever 
destroyed,  but  at  the  same  moment  a  crash 
from  the  clock  was  heard  —  weights,  bells,  and 
figures  fell  to  the  ground,  for  the  man  had  de- 
stroyed instead  of  repairing  his  work.  The 
clock  just  escaped  being  again  destroyed  at 
the  time  of  the  bombardment  by  the  Germans 
in  1870.  The  cathedral  was  greatly  damaged, 


LETTER    IX.  195 

but  has  been  well  repaired.  One  cannot  won- 
der that  the  French  feel  bitterly  toward  the 
Germans  for  taking*  from  them,  with  Alsace, 
this  city  so  rich  in  its  churches,  but  such  is  war. 
And  long  ago,  when  this  same  place  was  a 
free  German  town,  Louis  XVI.  captured  it  for 
France,  and  now  Germany  claims  it  again. 
French  and  German  seem  to  be  about  equally 
spoken  here. 

We  met  E.  W.  in  the  street  to-day,  and  a 
pleasant  surprise  was  her  face.  In  this  strange 
country,  mere  acquaintances  seem  like  dear 
friends,  and  dear  friends  dearer  than  ever 
before.  I  wish  I  could  hear  your  voice  to-day, 
but  I  know  you  are  with  us  in  thought,  and 
glad  that  these  days  are  so  filled  with  bright- 
ness for  us,  but  we  must  not  forget  that  they 
cannot  always  last ;  we  are  so  apt  to,  just  as  in 
summer  we  forget  that  flowers  so  soon  wither ; 
but  the  fragrance  of  their  fallen  leaves  remains 
with  us  long,  as  will  the  sweet  memories  of 
these  gliding  hours. 

Holland  Hotel,  Baden  Baden,  July  23d, 
1888. —  At  four  p.  M.  we  reached  here  from 
Strassburg.  Our  hotel  is  one  of  the  best,  and 


196  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

after  settling  our  baggage  in  our  spacious, 
handsomely  furnished  room,  we  went  out  to 
reconnoitre.  The  town  is  lovely, —  beautiful 
streets,  buildings,  shops,  and  grand  old  shade 
trees  everywhere,  and  just  now  the  place  is 
crowded  with  people,  driving,  walking,  flirting, 
and  sauntering  through  the  streets,  stores,  and 
gardens,  bareheaded.  This  reminds  me  more 
of  Saratoga  in  the  summer  season  than  any 
place  I  have  before  seen,  although  there  is  not 
the  display  of  dress  here,  or  the  taste  dis- 
played in  what  dress  there  is,  that  we  see  in 
our  American  watering-places.  In  fact,  so  far, 
I  have  had  to  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
European  ladies  show  very  little  good  judg- 
ment and  no  style  in  dress,  with  the  one  excep- 
tion of  the  Parisians.  The  Duchess  of  Baden, 
who  is  the  daughter  of  the  good  old  Emperor 
William,  lives  very  near  our  hotel,  and  other 
members  of  the  royal  family  of  Germany  are 
here,  but  are,  of  course,  all  in  deep  mourning 
for  the  dearly  loved  and  much-lamented  late 
Emperor  Frederick. 

After  an  excellent  dinner  we  went    to    the 
'  Conversation  Haus,'  a  large,  fine  building  in 


LETTER    IX.  197 

the  midst  of  beautiful  grounds,  where  every- 
body goes  evenings  to  hear  the  fine  music 
and  see  the  people.  What  else  they  go  for  I 
cannot  positively  say,  but  am  told  that  there 
is  still  some  gambling  carried  on  somewhere 
within  the  walls  of  this  building ;  but  we  saw 
only  its  elegant  drawing-rooms,  ball  and  recep- 
tion rooms,  rich  in  appearance  as  pictures  and 
gilt,  velvet,  and  silk  furnishings  could  make 
them.  If  any  gambling  is  done  here,  or  about 
here,  in  these  days  it  is  done  secretly,  for  when 
the  German  Government  awakened  to  the  fact 
that  accomplished  scoundrels  from  all  over  the 
world  met  here  to  carry  on  their  nefarious 
practice,  it  suppressed  all  gambling,  greatly  to 
the  credit  of  the  Government,  for  by  so  doing 
thousands  of  dollars  that  were  left  here  annu- 
ally were  spent  in  some  other  country  than 
Germany.  When  this  was  done  it  was  feared 
that  the  prosperity  of  Baden  was  over,  but  it 
did  not  prove  so.  The  place  is  too  lovely  to  be 
neglected  by  travellers,  and  now,  many  of  the 
wealthier  and  most  respected  Europeans  spend 
a  portion  of  the  summer  here.  There  are  over 
twenty  large  hotels  and  more  small  ones,  and 
they  are  now  all  well  filled. 


198  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

July  24th. —  This  morning  we  visited  the 
4  Trink  Halle/  an  elegant  building,  which  is 
decorated  with  frescoes  illustrating  many  of 
the  old  German  legends  of  the  Black  Forest. 
People  flock  here  mornings  to  drink  the  waters 
as  they  do  at  Congress  Spring  at  Saratoga. 
Crowds  of  people  were  present  drinking  the 
vile  stuff  as  if  they  enjoyed  it,  but  I  found  it 
the  least  palatable  of  any  mineral  water  I  ever 
tasted.  The  Fraulein  who,  at  her  leisure,  at 
last  waited  upon  us,  acted  as  if  it  were  a  great 
condescension  on  her  part  to  allow  us  to  taste 
the  horrid  liquid,  but  she  did  not  hesitate  to 
take  our  money.  I  observed  the  same  spirit  in 
all  of  the  female  employees  in  the  town  with 
whom  we  had  anything  to  do.  They  did  not 
seem  to  wish  us  to  see  anything  or  to  buy  any- 
thing ;  and  in  one  store  where  we  looked  at  a 
garment,  after  hearing  the  price,  I  remarked 
to  my  companion  that  it  would  not  cost  much 
less,  if  any,  than  at  home,  if  we  paid  duties, 
and  the  girl,  understanding  English,  said, '  You 
could  probably  buy  it  elsewhere  for  less,'  and 
continued  the  reading  of  a  book  she  held  in 
her  hand.  With  such  indifferent  clerks  I 


LETTER    IX.  199 

should  not  suppose  sales  would  be  very  large ; 
but  all  merchandise  was  dear  at  Baden  except- 
ing the  little  things  found  at  the  booths  out 
of  doors  and  in  the  two  rows  of  stores  leading 
to  the  Conversation  Haus.  These  were  very 
attractive,  and  everything  for  sale  in  them, 
from  magnificent  diamonds  and  gems  of  all 
kinds,  exquisite  engravings  and  photographs, 
down  to  buttons  and  hair  pins,  and  the  gentle- 
manly proprietors  and  clerks  were  very  polite. 

We  next  went  to  the  Friedrichsbad,  the 
finest  bathing  establishment  in  the  whole  world. 
It  is  built  of  red  and  white  stone,  and  is  artis- 
tically decorated  with  carvings.  But  the  at- 
tendants there,  the  women,  were  as  disagree- 
able as  the  sex  were  at  the  Trink  Halle ;  but  as 
they  were  remarkably  good  looking,  they  may 
have  been  placed  there  for  ornament  instead  of 
use,  and  the  mistake  our  own  in  expecting  them 
to  give  us  any  information.  We  did  not  see 
the  private  baths,  as  it  was  not  the  hour  to 
show  them,  but  we  did  succeed  in  seeing  the 
magnificent  round,  white,  marble-lined  swim- 
ming bath  by  waylaying  the  only  man  we  saw 
in  the  establishment  and  asking  him  to  show 
it  to  us. 


200  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

We  took  a  carriage  to  visit  the  'Alt  Schloss,' 
or  old  castle,  now  a  ruin  and  a  very  picturesque 
one,  and  then  to  the  '  Neue  Schloss/  where  the 
Grand  Duke  of  Baden  lives  a  part  of  the  time. 
This  is  a  home  fit  for  the  gods  —  a  grand 
castle,  on  an  eminence  overlooking  the  town 
and  a  beautiful  country  round  about  it. 
It  is  surrounded  by  magnificent  grounds,  and 
contains  many  valuable  paintings  and  a  gallery 
of  antiques.  You  remember  the  Duke's  wife  is 
the  daughter  of  old  Emperor  William,  and  now, 
since  the  Emperor  Frederick's  death,  she  is 
his  only  child  living.  As  none  of  the  royal 
family  were  in  the  castle  all  of  the  apartments 
were  shown  us,  all  attractive  and  rich  in  fur- 
nishings and  finishings,  with  lovely  views  of 
the  beautiful  valley  of  Baden  Baden  from  the 
windows.  We  next  followed  our  guide  down, 
down,  into  the  dungeons  below,  made  in  th j 
rock  on  which  the  castle  stands.  All  around  us 
were  instruments  of  torture,  and  near  us  a  deep 
excavation  where  condemned  persons  were  for- 
merly thrown  alive,  and  from  which  no  cry  for 
help  could  be  heard.  We  were  glad  to  turn 
our  backs  upon  these  places  of  old-time  cruelty 


LETTER    IX.  201 

and  try  to  forget  the  barbarity  of  old  mar- 
graves in  admiration  of  the  late  loved  emperors 
of  the  country,  William  and  Frederick,  both 
of  whom  have  recently  gone  to  their  reward. 

These  German  duchies  are  small,  very  small, 
kingdoms.  The  duchy  of  Baden  is  not  as  large 
as  our  State  of  Massachusetts,  but  the  Grand 
Duke  lives  in  a  kingly  manner.  He  not  only 
has  his  palaces  here,  but  has  one  at  Carlsruhe, 
a  short  distance  from  here,  one  in  Freiburg, 
one  in  Heidelberg,  and  three  or  four  others, 
and  each  one  must  require  an  immense  revenue 
to  be  cared  for  as  they  are.  Now,  just  think 
of  the  taxes  the  people  must  have  levied  upon 
them  to  keep  up  all  this  grandeur.  Suppos- 
ing we  had  to,  by  being  more  largely  taxed, 
pay  our  governors  a  sum  sufficient  to  live  in 
such  luxury,  I  think  we  should  soon  rebel, 
and  if  we  did  not,  I  should  fear  our  honest 
Puritan  blood  had  run  out.  From  the  'Neue 
Schloss'  we  visited  the  pretty  Greek  church, 
which  is  a  gem,  and  finished  our  drive  along 
the  Lichtenthal  Allee,  the  beautiful  avenue, 
shaded  by  magnificent  trees  and  filled  with 
carriages  of  every  description  in  which  were 


202  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

seated  lovely  women,  with  gay  dresses  and 
sparkling  gems.  Promenaders  from  all  parts  of 
the  world  walking  up  and  down,  bands  of  music 
playing,  and  bright  and  brilliant  is  the  scene. 
Yes,  Baden  is  delightful,  and  we  have  been 
cared  for  with  much  thoughtfulness  at  our 
hotel  and  recommend  it  to  all  who  come  this 
way. 

Willbad  Springs,  Germany,  July  25th, 
1888.  —  I  do  not  imagine  that  you  ever  heard 
of  this  place,  but  it  is  worth  hearing  about. 
It  is  a  small  watering-place,  with  natural 
springs,  hot  and  cold,  these  springs  being  con- 
sidered by  many  the  very  fountains  to  dip  in 
to  ensure  the  everlasting  duration  of  youth, 
strength,  and  beauty.  And  here  we  are  visit- 
ing our  own  relatives,  who  have  come  from 
Dresden  to  tarry  a  while  for  the  benefit  of  the 
waters.  How  glad  we  were  to  see  them  all  — 
our  own  kith  arid  kin  !  Cousin  E.  and  his 
pretty  little  '  foreign '  niece  were  at  the  station 
to  meet  us,  and  you  may  well  believe  our 
tongues  did  run  fast  for  a  while.  Aunt  M.  is 
an  encyclopedia  of  a  most  charming  edition, 
and  has  delighted  us  with  stories  of  her  experi- 


LETTER    IX.  203 

ences  in  living  and  travelling  on  this  continent 
and  with  her  cordiality  towards  us.     Hundreds 
of  people  are  here,  as  the  country  ahout  is 
attractive,  and  then,  too,  the  sick,  lame,  deaf, 
and  blind  come  to  be  made  whole.     '  Let  us 
bathe    in   these    wonderful     waters,'    said    F. 
Here,  as  at  Baden,  there  is  a  fine  building  in 
which  the  baths  are  fitted  up,  with  all  the  con- 
veniences, and  the  water  brought  into  them 
from  the  natural  springs.      What   a   furnace 
there  must   be   here  in   the    bowels  of   good 
mother  earth,  and  how  well  regulated  to  keep 
this  water  and  send  it  to  her  children  of  just 
the  right  temperature  for  a  bath.     I  could  not 
possibly  think  of  any  irregularity  of  my  body 
that  needed   doctoring,  but  was  advised  that 
when  ( in  Rome  I  should  do  as  the  Romans  do,' 
and  was  told  also  by  one  of  the  pleasant  assis- 
tants (very  different  from  the  class  at  Baden) 
that    many    American    ladies    had    derange- 
ments of  the  liver,  and  I  undoubtedly  would 
have  some  time,  being  an  American,  and  these 
baths  were  a  sure  preventive  as  well  as  a  sure 
cure.      I  had  never  thought  much  about  my 
liver,  as  it  had  never  called  for  special  attention, 


204  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

but  feeling  that  aere  was  the  grand  opportunity 
for  '  taking  time  by  the  forelock,'  plunged  in. 
Result :  stayed  a  day  longer  at  Willbad  than 
was  my  intention.  They  make  very  good 
gruel  at  Willbad  !  I  had  no  right  to  the  heal- 
ing properties  of  Willbad  waters,  for  there  was 
nothing  wrong  with  my  constitution.  The 
waters  took  their  own  way  of  revenging  impo- 
sition. 

July  26th,  1888. —  Have  been  in  the  house 
all  day.  This  evening  half  of  our  household 
went  to  the  opera  and  the  rest  of  us  listened  to 
some  fine  music  in  the  Park.  The  band  was 
a  splendid  one,  and  the  programme  contained 
choice  selections,  such  as  we  should  have  to  pay 
a  dollar  or  two  to  hear  at  home.  How  full  of 
music  these  Germans  are,  and  how  soulfully 
they  execute  !  We  have  just  decided  not  to 
go  with  E.  to  Bayreuth  to  the  Wagner  Festi- 
val, but  to  take  the  time  to  see  more  of  this 
country,  for  this  we  cannot  have  at  home, 
but  we  can  have  Wagner's  music,  and,  better 
still,  our  own  Symphony  and  Gericke.  We 
lingered  in  the  drawing-room  of  our  relatives 
late,  hating  to  say  '  good-night/  for  the  morn- 


LETTER    IX.  205 

ing  will  be  the  beginning  of  a  longer  parting. 
And  when  shall  we  all  meet  again.  Adieus 
must  be  said,  and  when  we  thanked  our  friends 
for  the  pleasant  time  with  them  they  said, (  But 
we  have  done  so  little  ! '  Ah  !  life  is  made  up 
of  little  things ;  loving  words,  smiles,  and 
kindly  acts  win  the  heart  always. 

Hotel  de  T Europe,  Heidelberg ',  Germany, 
July  27th,  1888.—  On  our  way  here  from  Will- 
bad  we  stopped  for  a  few  hours  at  Carlsruhe, 
which  is  one  of  the  residences  of  the  Court  of 
Baden  and  is  the  capital  of  the  grand  duchy  of 
Baden.  We  are  getting  tired  of  palaces,  so,  in- 
stead of  visiting  the  very  magnificent  one  at 
Carlsruhe,  spent  what  time  we  had  in  the  palace 
gardens  and  in  the  botanical  garden,  the  oran- 
gery, and  the  hothouses.  The  flowers  are  about 
the  same  as  we  have  at  similar  places  at  home, 
with  a  few  plants  and  blossoms  strangers  to  us. 
We  reached  Heidelberg  at  five  P.  M.  and 
were  considered  distinguished  arrivals,  I  am 
sure,  for  a  carpet  was  spread  awaiting  our  foot- 
steps from  the  carriage  to  the  hotel  door  and 
several  gentlemen  in  dress  suits  stood  in  a  line 
with  folded  arms  and  bowed  very  low  to  us  as 


206  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

we  passed  along.  Now,  this  was  delightful  ! 
They  never  do  that  at  Parker's  or  Young's 
when  we  go  there.  This  hotel  is  fine,  standing 
in  the  centre  of  a  pretty  garden.  We  have  a 
luxurious  room  and  on  the  first  floor.  We  are 
getting  to  like  the  single  beds,  one  apiece,  that 
we  have  everywhere  over  here  very  much,  for 
if  one  does  feel  like  taking  the  *  spoon  fashion  ' 
position,  there  is  no  one  with  coequal  rights 
near  to  object.  Nor  are  the  employees  as  atten- 
tive at  the  home  hotels.  Here  we  no  sooner 
get  settled  in  our  rooms  than  the  polite  portier 
appears,  takes  our  names  and  residence ;  no 
going  to  the  office  to  register  here,  and  the 
letters  U.  S.  A.  act  like  magic,  for  are  not  the 
United  States  of  America  overrun  with  million- 
aires, and  so  many  of  them  resort  to  travel  pur- 
posely to  get  rid  of  a  portion  of  their  trouble- 
some, superfluous  incomes.  '  Would  we  like  a 
glass  of  wine  brought  to  our  room?  Is  our 
room  satisfactory  ?  Perhaps  we  would  like  a 
special  maid  during  our  stay,  which  he  hopes 
will  be  long.  When  it  suits  us  to  allow  him, 
it  will  give  him  much  pleasure  to  tell  us  about 
the  city  and  what  to  visit  and  the  pleasantest 


LETTER    IX.  207 

way  to  see  all.'  Well,  really,  these  portiers  are 
invaluable,  and  although  there  may  be  some 
grasping  ones,  who  impose  upon  strangers,  we 
have  found  nearly  all  of  great  assistance  and 
apparently  well  satisfied  with  what  we  have 
given  them,  which  has  never  been  more  than 
we  felt  that  they  deserved  for  service  rendered. 
We  took  a  drive  about  the  city,  which  is  a 
long,  narrow  place  sandwiched  in  between  the 
river  Neckar  and  the  hills,  on  the  highest  one 
of  which  stands  the  ruins  of  the  old  castle. 
We  were  driven  through  a  long  avenue,  with 
pretty  trees  on  each  side  and  some  residences, 
but  more  stores,  and  the  sidewalks  filled  with 
people.  This  street  is  called  the  Anlage  ;  and 
is  the  principal  boulevard  of  the  city.  We  saw 
the  '  Helig  Geist  Kirche  ' —  Church  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  into  which  the  people  of  Heidelberg  were 
driven,  crowded  in  like  animals,  so  closely  that 
they  could  not  move,  by  the  French  army  in 
the  time  of  Louis  XIV.,  and  left  there  to  suffer, 
until  the  steeple  took  fire  as  the  town  was 
being  burned.  This  old  structure  has  had 
many  critical  changes  in  its  history,  and  is  now 
divided  by  a  thick  wall,  on  one  side  of  which. 


208  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

the  Roman  Catholics  worship,  and  on  the  other 
the  Protestants.  Our  driver  was  a  talker,  and 
told  us  much  we  understood,  and  more  that  we 
did  not,  of  the  places  of  interest  we  passed. 
{ Now  show  us  the  university  buildings/  we 
said,  and  he  soon  halted  in  front  of  an  old,  plas- 
tered or  stuccoed  structure,  that  resembled  bar- 
racks more  than  a  renowned  seat  of  learning, 
and  was  a  great  disappointment  to  us.  A  drive 
over  an  old  stone  bridge,  from  the  farther  end 
of  which  we  had  a  charming  view  of  the 
castle  perched  on  the  mountain  side,  overhang- 
ing the  town,  with  its  towers,  battlements  and 
arches,  a  regal  ruin  in  truth,  and  back  to  our 
hotel,  ended  our  first  sight  of  Heidelberg. 

We  had  scarcely  entered  our  room  when  a 
band  of  musicians  stationed  themselves  directly 
under  our  window  and  struck  up  the '  Wedding 
March  '  from  Lohengrin,  and  it  was  exquisitely 
played  too,  and  on  fine  instruments.  We 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  we  were  supposed 
to  be  brides  on  our  wedding  tour,  and  had 
commenced  disciplining  our  '  better  halves  '  by 
leaving  them  at  home,  as  we  find  it  is  a  source 
of  great  wonder  to  the  Europeans,  and  espe- 


LETTER    IX.  209 

cially  to  the  English  and  the  Germans,  that  the 
American  wives  travel  about  so  much  without 
their  husbands.  One  lovely  German  lady,  in 
Baden,  in  speaking  on  this  subject,  said  to  me, 
1  And  what  do  these  husbands  left  alone  do  ?  ' 
'  Do  ?  '  I  answered,  '  why,  they  not  only  attend 
to  their  own  business  matters,  but  they  run  the 
house,  take  care  of  the  children,  and  write  daily 
love  letters  to  their  absent  wives,  and  love  them 
better  than  ever,  if  possible,  when  they  reach 
home  again.  You  must  believe/  I  said,  *  that 
American  husbands  are  the  best  in  the  world, 
and  that  with  us,  in  all  grades  of  life,  wives  are 
treated  with  tenderness  and  consideration,  and 
as  equals.'  She  looked  a  little  incredulous,  and 
I  could  not  wonder  when  I  thought  of  the 
pitiable  sights  of  her  country,  that  are  before 
us  daily,  of  women,  bronze  faced,  half  dressed, 
working  in  the  fields,  digging,  hoeing,  pushing 
the  plough ;  in  the  towns  breaking  stone,  saw- 
ing wood,  and  bending  beneath  heavy  loads  of 
many  kinds,  carried  on  head  or  back,  while 
their  husbands  take  their  ease,  at  the  barracks, 
perhaps,  and  when  at  home  take  the  money 
earned  by  their  wives.  One  of  the  worst 


210  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

features,  too,  of  this  condition  of  things  is 
that  the  women  do  not  rebel ;  if  their  husbands 
take  them  into  the  gardens  on  Sunday,  and 
drink  beer  with  them,  often  paid  for  with 
the  little  earnings  of  the  overworked  wives, 
they  are  satisfied.  Poor  things,  they  have 
never  known  anything  better.  Amongst  the 
poor  of  Germany,  matrimony  was  not  com- 
menced right.  I  think  the  military  laws  of 
the  country  are  to  blame  greatly  for  the  degra- 
dation of  the  women  of  the  so-called  lower 
classes.  A  man  who  is  or  has  been  in  the 
army  considers  it  beneath  him  to  do  honest 
labor,  but  not  beneath  him  to  allow  his  wife  to 
do  it. 

July  28th,  1888.  —  Life  is  a  glorious  gift, 
and  a  morning  so  bright  and  lovely  as  this 
makes  one  thankful !  Immediately  after  break- 
fast we  went  to  the  castle,  of  which  we  have 
had  views  from  a  distance,  and  of  which  all 
our  lives  we  have  heard  so  much.  There  it 
stood,  massive  and  grand,  the  most  magnifi- 
cent architectural  ruin  in  the  world.  It  is  a 
ruin,  but  there  is  very  much  more  of  the 
original  building  left  than  of  Kenil worth,  that 


LETTER    IX.  211 

has  walls  only  left ;  this  has  halls,  rooms,  and 
chapels,  some  of  which  have  been  restored 
There  is  a  moat  around  it,  after  crossing  which 
we  passed  under  and  through  a  picturesque 
gateway,  from  which  ivy  and  wild  vines  were 
waving,  and  entered  the  courtyard.  The  fagade 
is  of  three  stories,  and  on  it  are  allegorical 
figures,  statues,  medallions,  and  stone  carvings. 
Tradition  gives  Michael  Angelo  as  the  architect 
of  this  fagade.  Ball-rooms  and  banquet-halls 
were  shown  to  us,  some  containing  paintings  in 
a  fairly  good  state  of  preservation,  which  seems 
more  remarkable  when  we  consider  that  they 
have  been  there  since  long  before  America  was 
discovered.  Of  the  woman  who  acted  as  our 
guide  we  asked  many  questions,  for  one  feels 
so  much  more  interest  in  the  history  of  a  place 
when  on  the  spots  talked  of.  She  was  well 
informed,  and  told  us  what  we  had  often  read, 
that  the  castle  was  built  in  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury, and  that  for  several  hundred  years  the 
Counts  Palatine  lived  here  in  royal  magnifi- 
cence, and  that  at  one  period  eighteen  hundred 
persons  formed  the  family,  or  the  Court,  of 
the  Elector.  No  wonder  they  needed  fireplaces 


212  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

large  enough  to  roast  oxen  whole.  The  build- 
ing was  several  times  partly  destroyed  by 
armies,  but  was  rendered  useless  to  live  in  by 
lightning,  at  last. 

What  jolly  times  the  high  in  power  and  the 
old  sprigs  of  royalty  in  those  days  meant 
to  have  !  One  would  have  surely  a  dull  imag- 
ination, or  no  imagination  at  all,  who  could  here 
wander  from  room  to  room  and  not  see  with 
the  mind's  eye  the  revellings  of  the  long  ago. 
The  big  tun  in  the  cellar  is  hogshead-shaped, 
and  really  will  hold  forty-nine  thousand  gallons, 
and  has  been  twelve  times  filled  with  the  best 
wines.  Can  you  comprehend  such  an  amount, 
and  a  receptacle  huge  enough  to  contain  it  ? 
The  '  Elizabethan  Ban '  still  shows  that  Fred- 
erick V.  brought  his  bride,  Elizabeth  of  Eng- 
land, to  a  princely  home.  But  the  silence  and 
the  decay  of  these  l  banquet  halls  deserted ' 
remind  us  forcibly  of  the  brevity  of  the  power 
and  glory  of  this  life,  and  should  be  a  lesson  to 
us  to  prepare  for  the  life  to  come,  which  only 
is  lasting.  The  wonderful  beauty  of  the  castle 
itself,  the  romantic  situation,  and  the  exquisite 
landscape  views  from  its  rich  stone  terrace, 


LETTER   IX.  213 

will  be  choice  pictures  in  our  memories  for 
many  a  day. 

There  are  but  few  attractive  shops  in 
Heidelberg;  plenty  of  bologna  sausages  and 
pretzels ;  portraits  and  photographs  of  the 
two  dead  emperors  everywhere,  and  many  of 
the  new  Emperor  William.  i  The  king  is  dead. 
Long  live  the  king.'  The  city  seems  full  of 
soldiers,  all  with  black  crape  on  their  arms, 
and  the  citizens —  men,  women,  and  children  — 
wear  it  also.  Everything  shows  to  us  that  we 
are  indeed  in  Germany. 

In  our  walks  and  drives  in  the  town  we  have 
looked  for  the  university  students,  and  we 
have  seen  them  —  plenty  of  them,  with  faces 
cut  and  scarred,  court-plastered  and  bandaged. 
What  an  abominable  custom  is  this :  to  allow 
these  naturally  fine  looking  young  men  to 
make  each  other  so  hideous  and  repulsive  in 
appearance  for  the  rest  of  their  lives.  The 
American  students  here  have  nothing  whatever 
to  do  with  this  disgraceful  custom,  and  yet  the 
Germans  know  well  they  are  no  cowards.  A 
student  from  New  York  gave  evidence  of  his 
willingness  to  risk  his  life,  in  a  really  noble  act, 


214  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

by  jumping  into  the  River  Neckar  and  saving 
the  life  of  a  child  who  had  fallen  from  the 
bridge  here,  a  short  time  ago.  These  German 
students  are  formed  into  five  sections,  or  corps, 
and  the  members  of  each  corps  wear  caps  alike, 
so  that  it  may  be  known  by  all  who  see  them 
to  which  corps  they  belong.  The  colors  are 
white,  yellow,  red,  blue,  and  green,  and  the 
members  of  one  corps  never  allow  themselves 
to  be  in  the  least  friendly  with  members  of 
any  other  corps,  for  they  may  have  to  haggle 
them  with  swords  within  the  next  twenty-four 
hours.  These  corps  students,  we  are  told, 
belong  to  the  most  aristocratic  families  of  Ger- 
many, and  yet  at  the  slightest  provocation,  and 
indeed  with  no  provocation  at  all,  they  fight 
each  other  like  wild  cats.  Very  recently  one 
of  the  red  caps,  by  mistake,  took  a  book  belong- 
ing to  a  white  cap,  was  challenged  for  so  doing, 
and  was  slashed  with  his  opponent's  sword 
unmercifully.  I  tell  you  this,  as  told  to  us,  to 
show  you  how  little  it  takes  to  cause  a  duel. 
If  the  members  of  the  corps  do  not  challenge 
each  other,  the  president  of  a  corps  challenges 
for  them  —  fight  they  must,  or  be  forever 


LETTER    IX.  215 

branded  as  cowards,  and  to  show  the  slightest 
sign  of  being  afraid  to  do  so  would  make  life 
in  Heidelberg  unbearable  for  them  forever  after. 
In  the  duel,  no  matter  how  seriously  one 
is  hurt  —  his  ear  may  be  cut  off,  or  his  nose 
split  —  he  must  not  wince  or  show  a  sign  of 
the  '  white  feather.'  Now  is  not  this  disgust- 
ing ?  Brave  they  say  it  makes  them !  Thank 
God,  our  young  men  show  their  bravery  in 
nobler  directions  !  Seeing  students  everywhere 
in  our  strolls  about  town,  I  wondered  when 
they  studied,  and  asked  many  questions  in 
regard  to  the  rules  of  the  university.  It 
seems  rules  are  few.  Heidelberg  University 
gives  to  all  who  choose  to  hear,  at  a  very  small 
charge,  lectures  on  all  the  sciences  and  arts, 
delivered  by  men  of  great  wisdom ;  so  if 
students  wish  to  learn,  they  have  great  oppor- 
tunities. If  they  are  indifferent,  everybody 
else  is  in  regard  to  them ;  they  can  do  as  they 
please.  We  heard  a  great  deal  of  their  capa- 
city for,  and  indulgence  in,  beer  drinking,  but 
saw  little  of  it. 

In   the    old  castle  there  is  a  banquet-room 
where  they  congregate  for  their  revels  often. 


216  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

This  grand  old  ruin  now  belongs  to  the  Duke 
of  Baden. 

We  have  made  some  purchases  of  leather 
goods  here  —  pocket-books,  card-cases,  and  so 
forth,  extremely  pretty  and  cheap  —  and  they 
all  bear  the  impress  of  the  castle ;  so  you  shall 
see  many  views  of  it  when  we  get  home.  At 
our  hotel  to-day  a  young  American  girl  heard 
of  the  sudden  death  of  her  father,  and  refused 
to  be  comforted.  Poor  dear  child,  how  our 
hearts  went  out  in  sympathy  for  her.  And 
how  hard  it  is  for  us  all,  amid  the  sorrows 
and  griefs  of  this  life,  to  keep  always  God's 
love  for  us  in  view. 


LETTER  X. 

MAYENCE,  GERMANY,  July  29th,  1888. 
A  FINE  city  is  this,  a  large  one  too,  with 
broad,  handsome  streets.  Our  first  visit  was, 
as  usual,  to  the  cathedral.  Service  was  going 
on,  and  this  being  some  anniversary  day,  the 
church  was  profusely  decorated  with  fresh 
plants  and  flowers.  The  entire  chancel  was 
filled  with  ferns  and  white  blossoms.  I  sat 
a  while  listening  to  the  service,  but  the  only 
portion  of  it  I  was  capable  of  appreciating  was 
the  fine  tone  of  the  organ  as  it  sent  out  its 
waves  of  sweetness  over  me.  When  I  arose  to 
go  I  could  not  find  F.,  nor  could  I  find  the 
way  out.  A  handsome  old  German  immedi- 
ately comprehended  my  situation,  and  gallantly 
escorted  me  to  the  door,  and  upon  leaving  me 


218  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

bowed  nearly  to  the  ground.  The  German  gen- 
tlemen are  very  polite  ;  and  when  we  were  at 
Strassburg,  at  our  first  table  d'hote  dinner  there, 
we  were  the  only  ladies  at  the  table,  and  there 
were  ten  gentlemen.  We  were  the  first  to  rise 
to  leave,  when,  to  our  surprise  and  embarrass- 
ment, every  gentleman  arose  and  bowed.  We 
of  course  recognized  the  courtesy  by  bowing 
also.  In  this  Mayence  cathedral  we  saw  the 
monument  to  Gen.  Lahmberg,  who  was  killed 
at  the  siege  of  Mainz,  and  wondered  at  the 
ridiculousness  of  this  costly  piece  of  marble, 
which  is  like  this :  a  figure  representing 
Death  is  pushing  the  much-bewigged  general 
into  a  sarcophagus,  which  appears  altogether 
too  small  for  him.  Some  of  the  statues  and 
monuments,  however,  were  very  beautiful  and 
appropriate  ;  one  of  Frauenlob,  the  '  champion 
of  women,'  exceptionally  so.  His  bier  was  car- 
ried to  the  grave  by  eight  beautiful  and  noble 
women. 

Like  the  rest  of  the  German  cities,  this  one 
seems  full  of  soldiers.  At  the  barracks  we  saw 
crowds  of  them,  and  in  the  streets  saw  several 
regiments  marching,  fine-looking  specimens  of 


LETTER   X.  219 

mankind,  and  moving  as  if  one  man.  I  am 
told  that  in  this  one  town  there  are  more 
soldiers  than  in  our  whole  army.  That  may 
be  so,  but  I  am  thankful  that  our  men  devote 
their  lives  to  better  uses  than  the  everlasting 
preparing  for  war  !  Think  of  the  progress  of 
our  comparatively  new  country.  Think  of  the 
condition  of  our  working  people !  Think  of 
the  multitude  of  invaluable  inventions  Amer- 
ican brains  have  given  to  the  world !  And 
when  war  has  to  come,  that  good  may  come 
from  it,  American  men  are  not  far  behind,  but 
they  do  not  spend  much  time  in  '  playing  sol- 
dier.' True  it  is  that  the  military  spirit  per- 
vades, fills,  the  whole  of  Germany  in  all  ways 
and  in  all  directions.  At  all  of  the  railway  sta- 
tions it  greets  and  surrounds  us.  Every  man  in 
Germany  has  served  a  number  of  years  in  the 
army.  They  all  stand  in  a  military  attitude, 
and  walk  with  a  military  step.  The  railroad 
officials  and  employees  have  all  been  soldiers. 
The  rank  of  their  present  positions  is  indicated 
by  their  special  uniforms.  The  captain  of  the 
station  wears  a  showy  costume  of  blue  trousers 
with  a  red  side-stripe,  a  frock  coat,  double- 


220  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

breasted,  a  gilt  belt,  and  plenty  of  large  gilt 
buttons,  and  a  red  cap  always,  with  gilt  trim- 
mings. The  guards  are  also  dressed  in  uni- 
form, but  wear  blue  caps.  When  the  passen- 
gers alight,  these  guards  bow  and  salute, 
whether  to  do  honor  to  the  arrivals,  or  whether 
the  salutes  were  for  each  other  only,  I  cannot 
say,  but  will  say  it  is  a  pretty  custom,  and 
much  superior  to  the  hurry-scurry,  jostle-about 
manner  of  the  depot  employees  in  our  own 
cities. 

The  railroad  stations  in  Germany  are  very 
much  finer  than  our  own.  The  interiors  of 
the  buildings  are  neat,  with  comfortable 
furnishings,  fine  restaurants,  and  dress-coated 
waiters  quick  and  ready  to  serve.  The  station- 
houses  are  surrounded  with  well-cared-for 
grounds,  containing  flowers,  fountains  often, 
gravelled  walks,  and  comfortable  seats,  so  that 
waiting  for  trains  never  becomes  tedious. 
Think  of  all  this,  you  who  wait  at  some  of 
our  country  stations !  And,  better  than  all, 
every  man  is  courteous  and  polite,  never  in 
too  much  of  a  hurry  to  answer  questions  and 
give  information.  To  the  captain  at  the  sta- 


LETTER    X.  221 

tion  here  we  are  particularly  indebted  for 
kindness  and  grateful  to  him  for  his  assistance, 
and  especially  for  rendering  all  as  if  it  were 
his  greatest  pleasure.  In  a  drive  about  the 
city  we  visited  the  museum.  Saw  many  quaint 
old  buildings,  watch-towers,  statues,  the  Elec- 
tor's palace,  and  a  variety  of  other  fine  build- 
ings. 

Grand  Hotel  du  Rhin,  Wiesbaden,  Ger- 
many, July  30th,  1888.  —  I  believe  Wies- 
baden is  more  attractive  than  Baden.  At  any 
rate,  nothing  could  have  charmed  me  more 
than  the  appearance  of  this  town  —  the  name 
of  which  means  '  Meadow  bath '  —  in  the  lovely 
drive  we  have  just  had  through  its  pretty 
streets,  bordered  with  fine  trees  and  magnifi- 
cent residences.  Hotels  are  crowded,  as  we  are 
here  in  the  season  for  fashionable  recreation 
and  rest,  and  perhaps  I  may  add,  fashionable 
dissipation.  People  bathe  in  and  drink  the 
unsavory  waters,  and  think  they  are  made  as 
good  as  new.  The  springs  are  a  curiosity,  and 
as  the  water  bubbles  up  to  the  surface  it  emits 
clouds  of  vapor,  and  sends  out  an  odor  sugges- 
tive of  having  washed  out  Hades.  We  were 


222  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

fortunate  in  meeting,  in  our  drive,  Louise, 
Princess  of  Nassau,  in  a  very  ordinary-looking 
turnout,  and  not  prepossessing-looking  herself, 
but  our  driver  informed  us  that  she  is  chari- 
table and  well-beloved  by  ah1.  We,  later,  vis- 
ited the  palace  of  the  Duke  of  Nassau.  There 
is  a  pretty  English  church  here,  and  a  very 
beautiful  Greek  chapel,  built  by  one  of  the 
Nassau  dukes  in  memory  of  his  Russian  wife. 
A  figure  of  the  sleeping  Duchess,  in  white 
marble,  is  lovely.  These  Greek  chapels  have 
always  a  gilded  dome.  The  natural  beauties 
of  Wiesbaden  are  numerous  and  unusual.  It 
is  said  Kaiser  William  loved  the  place. 

This  evening  we  went  to  the  Cursaal,  a 
handsome  edifice,  in  which  are  ball-rooms,  con- 
cert rooms,  and  so  forth.  There  are  beautiful 
grounds,  beautifully  laid  out,  around  the  build- 
ing, with  parterres  of  flowers,  miniature  lakes, 
fountains,  rustic  arbors  and  seats,  and  every- 
thing to  make  the  place  attractive.  The  Cur- 
saal, the  gardens,  and  the  colonnades  were  all 
brilliantly  illuminated,  and  a  fine  band  playing 
in  front  of  the  piazza  on  which  we  sat.  The 
seats  and  gardens  were  thronged  with  people, 


LETTER   X.  223 

—  sitting  or  walking  about,  chatting,  drinking 
wine  or  beer,  listening  to  the  fine  music,  and 
having  a  good  time  generally.  Before  the 
suppression  of  gambling  in  1872,  it  was  here 
carried  on  to  about  as  great  an  extent  as  at 
Baden.  While  sitting  taking  in  the  brilliant 
scene,  a  lady  sitting  next  me,  who  could  speak 
a  little  English,  addressed  me.  It  was  quite 
evident  that  her  tongue  must  move  constantly 
in  some  language.  She  was  '  cute '  and  discern- 
ing, and  after  looking  us  well  over,  ventured 
to  ask,  as  if  know  she  must,  ( American  or 
English  ? '  '  American,'  I  replied.  '  I  thought 
so ;  and  you  never  saw  a  sight  like  this  before, 
did  you?'  Many  of  the  intelligent  people 
over  here  seem  to  think  that  there  is  nothing 
ornamental  or  beautiful  in  America,  and  it 
gives  me  great  pleasure  to  undeceive  and  sur- 
prise them.  Many  seem  to  have  an  idea  that 
we  are  as  crude  as  savages. 

These  watering-places  have  some  advantages 
over  our  own  Saratoga  and  the  Springs  of  Vir- 
ginia, in  the  way  of  natural  scenery,  drives,  and 
foliage,  but  the  hotels  at  this  place  do  not 
equal  our  own,  the  equipages  are  far  less  ele- 


224  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

gant,  and  one  can  see  more  handsome  women 
and  more  tasteful  costumes  in  one  day  at  New- 
port than  in  a  whole  season  here.  This  hotel 
we  have  not  liked  as  well  as  the  one  in  which 
we  stayed  at  Baden.  Our  meals  have  been 
served  in  a  sort  of  rustic  arbor  on  a  large  scale, 
gorgeously  gotten  up,  with  vines,  evergreens, 
running  water,  and  flowers ;  but  I  must  say  I 
had  rather  eat  in  the  house,  where  there  are  no 
suggestions  of  bugs  or  worms  ;  but  the  Ger- 
mans love  to  eat  and  drink  out  of  doors.  My 
candle  is  growing  short,  therefore  I  must  make 
this  letter  so,  with  loving  thoughts  of  you  all. 
Good-night. 

Tuesday,  July  31s£,  1888.  —  The  sun  shone 
brightly  in  answer  to  our  prayers  this  morn- 
ing, and  we  are  thankful,  for  we  did  want  a 
clear  sky  for  our  canopy  while  on  the  Rhine. 
At  seven  A.  M.  we  left  our  hotel,  and  were 
driven  a  distance  of  three  miles,  over  a  fine 
road,  to  the  river,  where  we  found  a  boat  ready 
for  us.  The  steamers  that  ply  on  the  Rhine 
look  very  different  from  our  own  craft.  They 
are  long,  narrow,  and  low.  We  made  our  way 
on  board,  with  hands  full  of  maps  and  descrip- 


LETTER    X.  225 

tive  books,  with  the  rest  of  the  crowd,  picked 
up  our  stools  as  we  went  along,  and  seated  our- 
selves for  a  day's  trip  on  the  Rhine,  filled  with 
'  unspeakable  emotions  '  and  a  poor  breakfast. 

At  first  we  see  but  little  of  interest,  —  small 
villages,  gardens,  vineyards,  and  inns,  near 
the  water,  and  excursionists  sitting  on  their 
porticos  eating  and  drinking.  Occasionally  a 
cross  or  a  statue  on  the  hillside  varies  the 
scene.  We  are  disappointed  in  the  vineyards  : 
the  vines  run  up  on  sticks,  and  look  like 
stunted  pole- bean  vines  growing,  and  our 
expectations  of  graceful  green-clothed  arches 
and  arbors  vanish.  *  How  muddy  the  water 
looks,  too ! '  said  J,  '  and  when  or  where  do 
we  get  to  the  delightful  part  of  the  Rhine  ? ' 
A  young  German  gentleman  sat  near  us,  who 
evidently  did  not  like  that  question,  as  if  it 
could  be  for  once  thought  that  any  part  of  the 
romantic  river  could  be  anything  but  beautiful. 
I  will  tell  you  more  of  this  gentleman  later. 
At  Bingen  we  made  our  first  stop,  and  thought, 
as  everybody  does,  of  Mrs.  Norton's  poem. 
And  I  thought  of  the  little  boy  I  so  earnestly 
once  trained  to  recite  her  touching  lines :  — 


226  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

'  O  friend,  I  fear  the  lightest  heart 
Makes  sometimes  heaviest  mourning.' 

From  childhood  we  have  read  of  the  Rhine 
and  its  romantic  legends,  and  now  to  us  it 
seems  as  if  every  spot  must  be  inhabited  by 
princes  and  princesses,  dragons,  warriors, 
knights  and  syrens.  The  tower,  called  the 
Mouse  Tower,  which  is  in  the  middle  of  the 
river,  was  built  in  order  to  collect  taxes  from 
every  boat  that  passed.  The  legend  runs  that 
an  archbishop,  at  the  time  of  a  famine,  took 
what  grain  there  was  from  the  poor,  for  his 
own  wants.  The  starving  throng  begged  him 
for  bread,  and  he  said  to  them,  t  You  shall  have 
it ;  go  into  that  empty  barn  and  I  will  give  you 
warm  bread ! '  The  people  rushed  into  the 
barn,  when  he  closed  the  doors,  and  set  it  on 
fire,  and  when  they  all  cried  out  in  terror  he 
coolly  said,  '  Listen  to  the  pipings  of  the  mice.' 
From  the  ashes  of  the  people  armies  of  mice 
came  to  devour  him ;  he  rushed  to  the  tower 
for  safety ;  but  the  mice,  undaunted,  fol- 
lowed him,  and  ate  his  flesh  to  the  bone,  and 
his  skeleton  was  found  in  the  Rhine.  You 
will  recall  now  these  words  of  the  poem  — 


LETTER    X.  227 

*  They  whetted  their  teeth  against  the  stones, 
And  then  they  picked  the  bishop'8  bones.' 

Fragments  of  poetry  come  to  one's  mind 
constantly  here,  for  nearly  every  spot  has  been 
sung  of  by  some  one.' 

Near  by  is  the  great  ruin  of  the  Castle 
Ehrenfels,  where  the  Archbishop  of  Mayence, 
or  Mainz,  as  the  Germans  say,  used  to  flee  for 
safety  in  times  of  agitation.  Opposite  is  the 
Castle  of  Rheinstein  (Rhine  Stone),  which  has 
been  restored,  and  is  owned  and  often  occu- 
pied by  the  royal  family  of  Germany,  and 
looks  indeed  very  inviting.  The  legend  con- 
nected with  this  castle  is  a  pretty  tale,  because 
the  end  gives  Gerda,  the  lovely  daughter  of 
Count  Siegfried,  to  Kuno,  the  man  she  loved, 
notwithstanding  the  treachery  of  his  bachelor 
cousin  Kurt,  who  endeavored  to  win  her  for 
himself,  but  as  a  meet  punishment  fell  from 
his  horse  while  following  her  and  was  killed. 
Kuno  inherited  his  estates,  and  he,  with  Gerda, 
ever  after  l  lived  in  peace.' 

We  saw  the  Siebenjungfrauen,  i  Seven  Vir- 
gins,' now  seven  cold  rocks,  once  beautiful 
maidens.  The  Lurlei,  a  river  nymph,  turned 


228 


A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 


them  into  stone  for  flirting  too  much  with  the 
susceptible  youth  of  the  Rhine.  Near  by  are 
the  huge  rocks  of  the  Lurlei,  where  dwelt  the 
syren,  whose  sweet  voice  lured  all  who  heard 
it,  and  whose  greatest  delight  was  to  charm 
these  admirers  on  to  their  own  destruction.  It 
is  said  that  even  now,  at  the  uncanny  hour  of 
midnight,  the  phantom  of  a  boat  can  be  seen, 
with  the  shadowy  figure  of  a  man  with  out- 
stretched arms  standing  in  the  centre,  gazing 
toward  the  cliff,  where  he  had  once  seen  and 
been  entranced  by  the  lovely  maid  and  her 
sweet  voice. 

"  To  the  Rhine,  to  the  Rhine,  go  not  to  the  Rhine, 

My  son,  I  counsel  thee  well : 
For  there  life  is  too  sweet  and  too  fine, 

And  every  breath  is  a  spell. 
The  Nixie  calls  to  thee  out  of  the  flood ; 
And  if  thou  her  smiles  shouldst  see, 
And  the  Lorelei,  with  her  beautiful  lips, 
Then  'tis  all  over  with  thee  ; 
For  bewitched  and  delighted 

Yet  seized  with  fear, 
Thy  home  is  forgotten, 

And  mourners  weep  here." 

I   become   so    absorbed    in   all    these    old 
traditions,   that   I   feel   like    telling   you   the 


LETTER   X.  229 

stories  as  if  they  were  new,  but  you  know  them 
all,  and  I  must  stop  or  weary  you,  for  you  are 
in  practical  Boston,  and  I  on  this  historic, 
romantic  stream.  Near  us,  on  the  boat,  sat  a 
distinguished-looking  party  of  Germans,  one  of 
whom  was  the  young  gentleman  I  previously 
alluded  to,  and  who  had  watched  us,  we  felt, 
with  considerable  interest,  for  the  citizens  of 
one  nation  are  always  interested  in  travellers 
from  far-off  lands,  taking  notes  of  their  own. 
Hearing  me  ask  of  F.  a  question  in  regard  to 
one  of  the  old  ruins,  which  information  she 
was  unable  to  give  me,  he  kindly  volunteered 
the  desired  explanation,  apologizing  at  the 
same  time  for  addressing  us.  He  was  every 
inch  a  gentleman,  and  spoke  English  a  little. 
His  knowledge  of  everything  in  the  vicinity, 
his  kind  attentions,  and  the  use  of  his  superior 
glasses,  added  greatly  to  the  pleasure  of  our 
trip.  I  think  he  looked  at  my  companion,  but 
he  talked  with  me,  and  was  charming.  '  Have 
you  reached  "  the  delightful  part  of  the  Rhine"?' 
he  asked,  and  I  felt  that  I  had.  The  only  really 
beautiful  portion  is  from  Bingen  to  Bonn.  It 
is  between  these  cities  that  the  river  turns  and 


230  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

winds  from  one  mountain  side  to  the  other,  on 
whose  heights  stand  the  picturesque  old  ruins 
—  castles,  convents,  and  crags.  Of  course  the 
Drachenfels,  or  Dragon's  Rock,  with  the  cas- 
tle ruins,  brought  to  us  many  memories  of  the 
'Niebelungen  Lay,'  for  it  was  here,  on  this 
romantic  ground,  that  young  Siegfried  showed 
his  wonderful  strength,  which  has  been  told 
and  sung  of  ever  since.  If  only  he  had  dipped 
his  entire  body  in  the  dragon's  blood,  and  not 
left  the  one  spot  exposed  !  But,  ah  me  !  I  fear 
we  all  have  the  one  vulnerable  spot  somewhere, 
for  we  are  all  human  !  In  and  near  this  vicin- 
ity the  finest  grapes  grow,  and  the  vineyards 
are  extensive  and  receive  constant  care. 

We  made  a  short  stop  at  Bonn,  long  enough 
to  see  the  fine  statue  of  Beethoven,  who  was 
born  here,  and  who  was  descended  from  a 
family  of  wonderful  musicians.  Saw  the  uni- 
versity buildings  also,  where  a  young  gal- 
lant, once  ours,  studied,  and  then  we  pushed 
on  down  the  river,  the  banks  now  flat  and  of 
little  interest,  until  Cologne  came  in  sight. 

Yes,  we  have  greatly  enjoyed  the  Rhine, 
but  taking  it  entire,  I  am  a  little  disappointed, 


LETTER    X.  231 

and  as  these  are  honest  letters,  telling  you  of 
sights  just  as  I  am  impressed  by  them,  I  must 
say,  that  with  the  exception  of  that  portion  of 
the  river  I  have  spoken  of  to  you,  which  is 
bordered  by  the  mountains,  castle-tipped,  I 
think  our  own  Hudson,  with  its  lovely  banks 
and  its  shadowy  Catskills,  the  more  beautiful. 
I  am  thinking  now  of  the  time,  one  year  ago, 
when  I  sat  on  the  deck  of  the  Mary  Powell 
running  up  past  the  grand  palisades  and  dear, 
lovely,  old  West  Point.  Well,  I  shall  be 
homesick  if  I  dwell  upon  that  trip.  Our 
attentive  German  escort,  whose  card  has  told 
us  that  he  is  the  son  of  Baron  von  H.,  and  a 
student  at  Bonn,  now  taking  his  vacation,  re- 
quested my  consent  to  accompany  us  to  our 
hotel,  as  he  was  to  stop  at  the  same  one,  hop- 
ing to  be  able  to  be  of  service  to  us,  which 
very  kind  offer  we  declined,  and  stepped  into 
a  droschky,  which  soon  safely  landed  us  at  the 
Hotel  Disch. 


LETTER  XI. 

COLOGNE. 

OUR  room  was  all  ready  for  us,  and  it  was  a 
fine  one,  and  a  rocking-chair  in  it,  as  sure  as 
we  are  here,  the  first  one  seen  since  leaving 
Paris.  How  home-like  !  Letters,  too  !  the  best 
welcome  of  all.  One  from  you,  dear,  who 
have  proved  by  services  and  self-sacrifices  that 
1  love '  is  more  than  a  word ;  and  two  from 
dear  friends  whose  rare  friendship  has  known 
no  change.  How  eagerly  we  read  them ! 
How  thankful  to  know  you  are  all  well !  Oh 
how  far  away  in  body  we  feel  from  you  to- 
night ! 

A  rap  at  the  door !  A  note  handed  me  ! 
What  is  this  ?  Credentials,  and  a  letter  form- 
ally introducing  our  young  fellow-traveller  of 


234  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

our  trip  down  the  Rhine.  He  was  well  known 
by  our  hotel  proprietor.  Well,  he  has  worked 
rapidly  since  landing  to  try  to  assure  us  more 
earnestly  that  he  is  the  gentleman  he  seemed, 
and  of  which  I  was  perfectly  positive  without 
his  having  taken  all  this  trouble.  He  sends  us 
some  fresh,  sweet  roses,  and  asks  if  he  may 
sit  with  us  at  table  d'hote.  A  little  resting  in 
our  room,  a  little  lingering  at  the  window, 
from  which  we  have  a  fine  view,  and  our  first, 
of  the  great  cathedral,  and  down  to  dinner  we 
go,  Miss  F.  not  forgetting  to  wear  her  share  of 
the  lovely  jacqueminots.  Our  friend  was  wait- 
ing for  us,  and  looked  handsomer  than  ever  in 
his  fine  dress-suit.  We  were  all  hungry,  and 
did  wish  a  little  more  speed  could  be  used  in 
serving  table  d'hote  dinners.  If  one  is  sight- 
seeing, and  desires  the  time  for  something 
besides  waiting,  these  long-drawn-out  affairs 
require  the  patience  of  a  Job  to  sit  to  the  end 
of  them. 

After  dining  we  walked  out  into  one  of  the 
parks  and  heard  excellent  music,  looked  about 
the  old  town,  guided  by  our  German,  who  was 
familiar  with  every  spot  and  who  quite  edu- 


LETTER   XI.  235 

cated  us  upon  Cologne  and  its  history.  Upon 
bidding  him  good-night,  he  said  he  should  be 
happy  to  escort  us  about  the  next  day,  but 
previous  arrangements  compelled  us  to  decline 
with  the  heartiest  of  thanks.  He  was  disap- 
pointed, and  the  big,  dreamy  blue  eyes  rested 
upon  the  sun-browned  girl  with  me,  who  looks 
thoroughly  the  tramp  she  is.  They  two  con- 
verse in  German,  and  so  rapidly !  I  must  prac- 
tise German  more ;  I  can  hardly  follow  them. 
Why  will  people  talk  all  languages  but  our 
own  as  if  tongues  were  propelled  by  steam  ? 

Hotel  Disch,  Cologne,  August  1st,  1888. — 
Thanks  we  offer  for  a  good  night's  rest  and 
for  this  lovely  morning.  Our  bell  rings,  and 
I  find  at  our  door  a  maid  with  a  basket  of  ex- 
quisite flowers  tied  with  blue  ribbon,  colored,  I 
am  sure,  with  the  reflection  of  a  certain  pair 
of  eyes.  A  card,  with  the  donor's  name,  hop- 
ing the  ladies  are  well.  A  pretty  morning  wel- 
come, surely  !"  We  receive  a  call  later,  and  bid 
God-speed  to  our  German  friend,  who  seems  as 
reluctant  to  leave  us  as  we  are  to  have  him  go. 
But  such  is  travelling :  we  meet  as  ships  at  sea, 
salute  each  other  and  then  pass  on.  Moral  of 


236  A   BUNDLE   OF    LETTERS. 

this  little  episode :  If  you  wish  in  journeying 
about  to  have  plenty  of  attention,  take  a 
young  lady  with  you. 

Cologne,  or  Koln,  is  a  large  city,  and  in 
some  of  the  streets  where  much  of  the  per- 
fume is  made  the  odor  is  very  evident  and 
much  more  welcome  than  the  cheese  scent  of 
Berne  or  the  garlic-impregnated  air  of  some 
of  the  German  towns.  This  is  a  fascinating 
old  place,  and  the  streets  of  shops,  gay,  bright, 
and  progressive  looking,  and  the  old,  narrow, 
crooked  thoroughfares  very  odd,  with  their 
queer  old  buildings.  The  garrison  here  con- 
tains seven  thousand  soldiers  :  think  of  their 
seven  thousand  'ribs'  at  home  digging  pota- 
toes. There  are  many  churches  here,  old 
towers  and  fountains,  an  archbishop's  palace, 
and  statues  of  the  different  German  emperors, 
one  fine  one  of  Gen.  Moltke  and  one  of  Bis- 
marck, all  good  specimens  of  careful  work. 
Cologne  water  is  for  sale  everywhere,  stores  of 
it,  in  bottles  and  flasks  of  every  shape,  on  the 
street  corners,  in  the  corridors  of  hotels,  and 
children  rush  up  to  you  and  take  it  out  of 
their  pockets,  urging  you  to  buy.  Throughout 


LETTER   XI.  237 

Germany  I  have  seen  the  beautiful  face  of 
Queen  Louise  carved,  chiselled,  painted  and 
photographed,  but  here,  in  an  art  store,  I  saw 
an  engraving  of  the  same  sweet  face,  the  love- 
liest of  all.  No  wonder  old  Emperor  William 
cherished  her  memory  so  sacredly,  and  forgot 
not  the  insults  of  Napoleon  heaped  upon  his 
beloved,  noble  mother.  We  went,  for  a  short 
time  in  each,  to  the  Zoological  and  the  Bo- 
tanical gardens.  We  thought  we  would  see 
some  of  the  sights  of  the  town  before  going 
into  the  cathedral,  but  the  huge  pile  was 
before  us  at  every  turn  and  we  could  wait  no 
longer  to  see  the  crowning  glory  of  the  place. 
Cologne  Cathedral !  Dear,  of  this  great 
piece  of  Gothic  architecture,  with  its  majestic 
arches,  columns,  pillars,  windows,  and  all  else 
that  helps  make  up  its  wonderful  beauty,  I 
have  no  words  to  tell  you.  It  is  perfect : 
nothing  has  equalled  it.  We  wandered  about, 
then  seated  ourselves,  with  never  before  in  our 
lives  so  beautiful  a  perspective  before  us,  and  I 
was  so  overpowered  with  it  all  that  I  am  not 
sure  but  I  should  still  be  sitting  there  if  F. 
had  not  said,  i  Come,  we  must  see  the  chapels.' 


238  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

There  are  seven  of  them,  all  filled  with  costly 
pictures  and  relics.  In  the  treasury  of  the 
church  there  are  gold  and  silver,  diamonds, 
pearls,  emeralds,  and  rubies  enough  to  buy 
bread  for  all  Germany.  The  beautiful  churches 
of  this  country,  the  wonderful  telling  of  sacred 
stories  in  their  paintings,  the  speaking  statues, 
which  bring  to  us  the  '  good  tidings '  anew, 
the  soothing,  restful  colors,  are  all  great 
lessons  and  we  can  get  much  good  from  them. 
But  the  sacristies,  filled  with  gold  and  silver  in 
meaningless  shapes,  precious,  costly  gems  im- 
bedded in  old  skulls  repulsive  to  look  upon, 
are  indeed  abominations.  If  all  these  riches 
were  turned  into  money  to  help  the  Saviour's 
poor,  would  it  not  be  a  better  way  of  doing 
6  His  bidding '  ?  For  the  poor  and  the  hun- 
gry are  not  far  from  the  masses  of  wealth, 
wherever  or  in  whatever  form  it  may  be.  I 
appreciate  aesthetically  this  dazzling  display  of 
artistic  splendor  and  riches,  but  my  heart  goes 
out  in  pity  and  sympathy  toward  the  multitude 
who  are  taxed  to  support  it.  And  are  not 
these  terrible  differences,  whether  in  church  or 
in  society,  the  seed  which  may  some  time 


LETTER    XI.  239 

grow  into  anarchy  and  revolution?  Even  in 
dear,  good  Boston,  not  long  ago,  I  heard  a 
delicate  woman,  who  toiled  daily  for  her  in- 
valid husband  and  three  little  ones,  say,  '  I  am 
so  discouraged  to-day  in  my  struggle  for  the 
necessities  of  life  that  it  is  almost  maddening 
to  take  up  the  paper  and  see  that  Mrs.  A.  had 
a  thousand  dollars  worth  of  flowers  at  her  ball 
last  night,  that  Mrs.  B.  wore  a  ten  thousand 
dollar  necklace,  and  so  on.' 

This  town  is  well  supplied  with  churches, 
there  being  twenty  noted  ones  here.  I  did 
not  feel  much  inclined  to  see  anything  less 
impressive  than  the  cathedral,  but  submissively 
followed  F.  to  St.  Ursula,  for,  she  said,  no- 
where else  could  I  see  the  bones  of  eleven 
thousand  virgins.  And  sure  enough,  there 
they  were !  many  of  them  placed  in  position, 
like  rails  in  a  Virginia  fence.  Three  thou- 
sand skulls  are  also  ranged  along  on  shelves 
together,  grinning  silently  at  each  other.  If 
Hamlet  runs  out  of  skulls,  there  are  plenty  in 
Cologne.  The  decorations,  however,  would 
probably  not  be  thrown  in,  as  they  are  worth 
a  good  deal  more  than  the  skulls.  Some  wear 


240  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

embroidered  and  jewelled  hoods,  others  wear 
caps  of  silver  and  gold.  There  is  a  painting 
of  St.  Ursula  here,'  and  the  shrine  of  St. 
Ursula,  set  with  precious  stones.  (  And  this  is 
the  arm-bone  of  St.  Ursula,'  said  our  solemn 
guide.  ( Is  it  really  ? '  said  I.  'And  this  is  her 
foot.'  '  My !  just  think  of  it,  F. !  St.  Ursula's 
foot !'  And  with  renewed  solemnity  our  guide 
continued,  '  And  this  is  her  hair  net.'  '  Her 
hair  net !  do  let  me  see  it  closer.  Are  her 
false  crimps  here  also  ?'  '  And  here  are  the 
teeth  of  the  virgins.'  '  Blessed  virgins  !  they 
will  never  have  the  toothache  any  more  from 
these  teeth  !'  '  And  here  is  the  vase  in  which 
the  water  was  turned  to  wine  at  the  marriage- 
feast  at  Can  a,  in  Galilee ! '  '  Is  it  possible  ?  do 
you  really  believe  it  ? '  said  I.  The  man  —  a 
handsome  priest  —  bowed  low  and  crossed 
himself.  Much  of  the  story  of  St.  Ursula  and 
her  pilgrimage  is  illustrated  in  paintings  on 
the  walls  of  the  church.  We  surely  had  our 
money's  worth,  and  our  fill  of  churches  for  one 
day. 

Our    German    friend    does   not   forget   us, 
although  now  miles  away !    Flowers,  and  a  let- 


LETTER   XI.  241 

ter  to  F.,  which  we  find  upon  returning  to  our 
hotel,  prove  this.  The  letter  is  so  '  cute,'  and 
so  original,  also,  in  its  attempts  to  express  its 
writer's  feelings  in  English,  that  I  will  copy  it 
for  you,  word  for  word,  for  you  will  appreciate 
it,  and  I  am  sure  he  would  not  object,  for  you 
do  not  even  know  his  name :  — 

MY  DEAR  Miss :  I  fear  this  first  letter 

will  be  very  sentimental,  but  I  cannot  help  it. 
I  must  once  more  tell  it  to  you  how  sorry  I  am 
that  I  fear  our  acquaintance  will  now  be  fin- 
ished already,  and  how  much  I  felicite  myself 
to  have  had  the  bonheur  of  this  acquaintance. 
Also  I  feel  obliged  to  thank  you  much  for 
the  confidence  you  kindly  have  had  in 
granting  unto  me  this  acquaintance.  It  I 
never  will  forget.  Yes,  it  is  a  bad,  sorry  word, 
the  word  Abschied.  I  don't  know  it  meant 
in  English.  Before  all,  if  we  pronounce  it, 
with  the  very  doubtful  hope  to  see  the  person 
everywhere  again,  to  whom  we  have  to  pro- 
nounce that  word.  You  must  have  seen  how 
much  it  gave  me  pain  and  trouble  to  say  it  to 
you  that  evening.  By  writing,  that  goes  bet- 


24:2  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

ter,  than  I  not  do  see  your  eyes,  hear  your 
voice,  feel  your  presence  but  in  mind.  I  now 
bow  down  for  trying  to  say  to  you  that  for- 
ever I  will  cherish  you,  as  I  was  an  old  friend 
of  yours,  and  that  I  desire,  of  all  my  heart, 
you  may  be  as  happy  in  all  your  life  as  any- 
body can  be,  and  as  you  want  to  be.  Wher- 
ever you  exist,  all  my  wishes  and  love  will  be 

for  you,  and  all  the  regards  for  Madame 

accompanying  you.  And  now,  enough  of  my 
deep  feelings,  for  I  fear  you  may  become  angry 
to  so  hear  them,  and  regulate  of  your  promise 
to  hear  my  correspondence.  If  you  will  have  a 
next  letter,  I  will  do  my  very  better  to  be  less 
melancolie  in  that  following  letter,  for  to-day 
I  cannot  else.  Allow  me  pleasure  to  send  you 
some  sweet  roses  —  similie,  similie,  say  the 
homeopaths  ;  that  means  —  01  know  here  that 
means  true  here,  and  you  must  know  it.  Fare- 
well, my  sweet  American  lady,  and  good-bye. 
My  hope  and  longing  for  the  seeing  you  again 
is  inexplicable.  Please  now  make  my  most 

respectful   compliments  to  Madame ,  and 

do  hold  me,  while  life  lasts,  in  your  good  friend- 
ship. I  hope  you  will  excuse  my  bad  English, 


LETTER   XI.  243 

for  it  all  comes  from  this  heart,  and  not  from 
this  head  of  your  faithful  friend  forever,  who 
is  in  pain  to  say  adieu  to  you,  and  more  than 
ever  before  must  I  go  to  America  and  your 
city  Boston.  I  pray  you  do  write  to  me,  your 
friend,  who  shall  wait  and  watch  for  your 
words.  .' 

I  doubt  if  we  could  answer  in  German,  on 
paper,  and  make  ourselves  as  clearly  under- 
stood. We  hope  sometime  to  see  our  devoted 
and  much-valued  friend  again. 

Hotel  Disch,  August  2d,  1888.  — We  have 
had  a  long  drive  about  the  city  to-day. 
We  saw  the  bridge  of  boats  and  went  into 
the  cathedral  for  the  third  time,  and  each 
time  its  beauty  impresses  us  more  and  more. 
If  the  tradition  connected  with  the  architecture 
of  the  cathedral  is  true,  that  his  Satanic  majesty 
designed  it,  he  certainly  did  that  better  than 
any  of  the  rest  of  his  works.  The  exterior  is 
also  most  pleasing  to  the  eye,  look  at  it  in  any 
way  you  will,  and  the  spires,  the  towers,  and 
the  buttresses,  with  their  elaborately  carved 
pinnacles,  are  c  things  of  beauty,*  never  to 
be  forgotten. 


244 


A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 


In  our  ramble  later  in  the  day  through  the 
streets,  which  seem  to  be  laid  out  something 
like  half  circles,  a  little  ragamuffin  pulled  my 
dress  and  asked  in  German,  (  Can  I  show  you 
the  horses.'  The  child's  dirty  face  was  wan 
and  haggard,  so  we  could  not  begrudge  a  few 
pennies  given  him,  and  I  took  his  hand,  which 
seemed  to  please  him  immensely  and  on  we 
walked  together.  'There  they  are,'  said  he.  And 
sure  enough,  looking  from  a  second  story  win- 
dow of  an  old  house  are  two  gray  horses,  stuffed, 
I  presume,  but  their  appearance  is  very  life-like. 
The  story  explaining  their  being  there  runs 
like  this.  The  beautiful  wife  of  a  rich  man 
apparently  died.  The  grief  of  the  husband 
was  so  intense  that  he  would  allow  no  one  to 
come  near  her,  and  placed  her  in  the  tomb  him- 
self, with  her  rich  garments  and  jewelry  on. 
Thieves  went  at  night  to  steal  these  articles, 
when  at  their  touch  she  arose  and  asked, 
1  Where  am  I  ?  '  The  men,  alarmed,  ran  away 
at  full  speed,  leaving  the  doors  open,  and  the 
woman,  who  had  only  been  in  a  trance,  walked 
out  into  the  street,  and  to  her  husband's  house. 
She  knocked  at  the  door  until  her  husband  was 


LETTER    XI.  245 

aroused  and  asked  who  knocked.  She  replied, 
*  It  is  I,  thy  own  Richmodis,  thy  wife.'  '  No,' 
said  he,  '  my  wife  is  dead,  and  the  dead  rise  no 
more ;  sooner  would  my  two  grays  trot  up  the 
staircase  into  my  room  and  look  out  of  the  win- 
dow.' He  immediately  heard  a  noise,  and  his 
two  horses  came  into  his  room,  placed  their 
fore  feet  on  the  window  sill  and  looked  out, 
and  there  they  have  been  looking  ever  since. 
And  the  poor  wife,  let  us  hope,  was  received  as 
flesh  and  blood.  Old  traditions  and  history 
repeat  themselves  constantly  in  these  ancient 
foreign  cities. 

A  party  of  young  girls,  with  their  teacher, 
arrived  at  our  hotel  to-day  from  Massachusetts, 
and  it  was  a  delight  to  see  their  faces  and  to 
hear  our  own  tongue.  E.  reached  us  this  even- 
ing from  Bayreuth,  filled  to  the  brim  with 
Wagner,  and  greatly  regretting  that  we  were 
not  there  to  see  and  to  hear.  Of  the  latter 
pleasure  we  know  something  from  the  exquis- 
itely rendered  Parsifal  selections  given  at  our 
own  Symphony  Concerts,  but  to  see  Parsifal  in 
the  home  of  its  composer  is  a  delight  yet  to 
come. 


246  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

August  3d,  1888. —  Leaving  Cologne,  and 
carrying  much  cologne  with  us,  we  started  at 
nine  o'clock  A.  M.  for  Utrecht,  turning  our  faces 
toward  the  cathedral's  spire  as  long  as  we  could 
catch  a  glimpse  of  it,  and  soon  we  are  out  of 
Germany  and  in  Holland.  For  all  the  Ger- 
mans drink  so  much  beer,  we  have  never  seen 
in  the  country  one  intoxicated  person,  and 
who  could  go  far  in  our  own  land  and  say 
that  ?  ( 'Tis  true,  and  pity  'tis  'tis  true,'  that 
the  poor  whiskey  deluded  Americans  drink 
is  many  times  more  deadly  and  destructive 
than  beer.  Although  we  have  had  few  oppor- 
tunities of  seeing  the  better  class  of  Germans 
in  their  homes,  we  know  that  home-life  is 
sweet  and  sacred  to  them,  and  the  Germans  are 
everywhere  proverbially  honest  and  their  word 
to  be  depended  upon.  Their  country  is  not 
only  a  military  one,  but  it  is  the  nation  of  music, 
of  the  sciences,  and  people  of  all  other  nations 
flock  here  for  instruction. 


LETTER  XII. 

AT  Utrecht,  our  first  Holland  city,  at  the 
station,  we  had  our  first  glimpse  of  a  Holland 
lady  in  her  national  costume.  She  stepped 
from  her  carriage  and  stood  near  us  for  several 
moments,  and  in  that  time,  I  fear,  we  proved 
to  be  as  good  '  starers '  as  the  French  are.  I 
wish  I  could  make  you  see  her  just  as  I  did. 
She  was  a  large-framed,  good-looking  woman. 
Her  dress  skirt  was  of  stiff  black  satin,  in 
length  considerably  above  her  ankles.  She 
wore  a  full  white  waist,  over  which  she  had  a 
jacket,  cut  the  shape  of  a  zouave  garment,  of 
black  cloth,  upon  the  front  of  which  seemed  to 
be  gilt  or  gold  ornaments,  that  looked  like 
military  decorations ;  but  her  head  rigging  was 
the  oddest  of  all.  First  she  had  on  a  cap-like 


248  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

covering,  that  looked  as  if  made  of  white  tarle- 
ton,  with  a  full  front,  into  which  were  stuck 
numerous  gold  pins,  from  the  heads  of  several  of 
which  diamonds  flashed ;  a  broad  gold  band  ran 
from  side  to  side  across  her  forehead,  and  from 
each  end  hung  a  gold  ornament ;  over  this  she 
wore  a  flaring  straw  bonnet.  She  had  on  white 
kid  gloves,  and  looked  and  moved  every  inch  a 
lady. 

We  were  a  good  while  delayed  before  being 
able  to  get  a  two-seated  carriage,  for  everybody 
in  the  sleepy  old  town  moved  slowly,  but  after 
a  while  we  were  furnished  with  an  open 
barouche  and  a  handsome  pair  of  slow-moving 
black  horses,  and  were  driven  about  the  city. 
Utrecht  means  '  Old  Ford,'  and  the  place  looks 
quiet  and  dull,  although  it  has  a  beautiful  park 
and  many  fine,  large  residences,  but  they  all 
seemed  shut  up ;  and  we  came  to  the  conclu- 
sion, after  a  disgusting  incident  a  little  later,  of 
which  I  will  tefl  you,  that  the  older  people  were 
off  travelling. 

On  one  of  the  best  streets  of  Utrecht  stood 
a  group  of  well-dressed  children,  intelligent 
and  attractive  looking.  Just  as  I  had  finished 


LETTER   XII.  249 

a  remark  complimentary  to  them,  we  were  cov- 
ered, deluged,  blinded  with  mud  and  manure 
thrown  at  us  by  these  remarkably  innocent 
looking  children,  who  had  grouped  there  for 
this  very  purpose  with  the  dirt  in  their  hands, 
coolly  awaiting  and  watching  our  approach. 
A  second  time,  in  another  part  of  the  city,  we 
were  attacked  in  the  same  manner  by  children, 
and  this  time  E.  rushed  from  the  carriage,  so 
indignant  was  he  at  the  coarse  outrage ;  and 
although  both  times  the  children  took  fast  to 
their  heels,  they  would  have  been  severely 
and  justly  punished  if  I  had  not  begged  our 
defender  to  let  them  go,  and  not  take  up  the 
little  time  we  had  in  having  them  overtaken. 
Our  driver  said  it  was  a  very  common  occur- 
rence for  the  youth  of  the  town  to  thus  attack 
strangers.  I  just  longed  to  give  them  a  good 
Yankee  chastisement.  We  visited  the  cathe- 
dral, and  my  companions  went  up  into  the 
tower,  from  which  they  had  a  good  view, 
but  I  had  seen  ah1  of  Utrecht  that  I  desired, 
but  was  destined  to  see  one  more  disturbing 
scene. 

A  canal  runs  through  the  town,  and  the 


250  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

boats  are  mostly  managed  and  towed  along  by 
women,  —  old  white-haired  women  lifting  and 
tugging  away  at  bags  and  barrels,  pulling  at 
the  ropes  of  the  boats ;  and  at  the  rope  of  one 
huge  canal  boat  a  woman  and  a  cow  were  pull- 
ing together.  The  water  in  the  canal  was  low 
and  the  mosquitoes  were  high,  for  they  also 
attacked  us  in  our  carriage,  the  very  first  ones 
we  have  met  with  on  the  continent.  So,  after 
a  really  good  dinner  —  the  only  acceptable 
attention  received  by  us  in  Utrecht, —  we  were 
glad  to  push  on  to  Amsterdam. 

Holland  is  largely  a  grazing  country,  very 
level,  with  vast  pastures  filled  with  cattle, 
horses,  and  sheep,  all  fine-looking  specimens  of 
their  race.  At  one  little  station  where  we 
waited  I  stepped  close  to  a  dike,  on  the  other 
side  of  which  were  hundreds  of  sheep ;  as  if 
by  one  consent  they  all  raised  their  heads  and 
looked  at  me  in  such  a  human  way  that  I 
felt  like  an  intruder,  bowed  respectfully  to 
them,  and  retreated.  The  Holstein  cattle  are 
noble-looking  creatures,  and  the  horses  of  Hol- 
land handsome  animals,  —  dignified  steppers, 
but  heavy  and  slow.  Cattle  and  horses  are  all 


LETTER   XII.  251 

black,  or  black  and  white,  and  all  the  cats  I 
have  yet  seen  here  are  black.  I  saw  four  big- 
black  tabbies  at  Utrecht.  We  pass  through 
several  little  Dutch  villages,  see  farmhouses  in 
the  distance,  glints  of  blue  water  far  away,  dikes 
all  about  us,  and,  as  we  near  Amsterdam,  big 
windmills  without  number.  And  here  we 
are ! 

Amsterdam,  August  4:th,  1888.  —  Do  you 
remember  our  old  Dutch  nurse,  who  used  to 
tell  me  stories,  in  Pittsburg,  Penn.,  of  her 
home  in  Amsterdam  ?  And  now  here  I  am  to 
tell  you  a  little  about  the  same  place  as  I  see 
it.  Our  first  stroll  revealed  to  us  one  of  the 
queerest,  quaintest  cities  we  had  anywhere  vis- 
ited. Directly  after  breakfast  we  went  to  the 
markets,  where  the  peasantry  were  selling  fruit, 
vegetables,  fowl,  crocheted  articles,  plants  and 
flowers,  cheese,  butter,  and  much  else ;  the  ven- 
ders themselves,  in  their  queer  dress,  being  the 
most  attractive  of  all  to  us.  The  women 
nearly  all  wore  the  queer-looking  head-dresses 
of  their  country,  although  not  made  up  as 
richly  as  the  one  we  saw  at  Utrecht,  and  all  had 
on  heavy,  woollen  stockings  and  wooden  shoes, 


252  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

and  when  not  busy  otherwise  were  vigorously 
knitting. 

From  the  market  we  went  to  the  quarters  of 
the  poorer  class  of  Jews,  where  the  streets  were 
narrow,  the  homes  squalid,  and  the  little  rooms 
fairly  crowded  with  human  beings,  packed 
closer  than  were  ever  sardines.  In  one  small, 
dirty  front  entry  we  counted  sixteen  children. 
Our  carriage  was  surrounded,  every  time  we 
stopped,  by  crowds  of  lookers-on,  young  and 
old,  tattered  and  torn,  but  all  behaved  well. 
1  How  true  it  is  that  one  half  of  the  world 
knows  not  how  the  other  half  lives'  There 
are  ajbout  thirty  thousand  Jews  in  this  city,  — 
many  richer  than  kings,  and  many  who  know 
not '  where  to  lay  their  heads.' 

Acquaintances  who  have  visited  this  city 
have  given  me  diiferent  ideas  of  it,  more  dis- 
paraging it  than  praising,  but  I  find  it  delight- 
ful, and  filled  with  interest. 

Amsterdam,  now  the  capital  of  Holland,  you 
know,  and  by  far  its  richest  city,  was  in  the 
twelfth  century  only  a  small  village.  When 
the  Spaniards  persecuted  the  so-called  Re- 
formers of  other  Dutch  and  Flemish  towns, 


LETTER    XII.  253 

they  fled  to  Amsterdam,  taking  with  them  their 
riches  and  their  industries,  and  to  them  the 
place  owes  the  beginning*  of  prosperity.  The 
River  Amstel  divides  the  place,  the  one  side 
being  called  the  Oude  Zijde  (old  side),  and  the 
other  Nieuwe  Zijde  (new  side).  It  is  said  that 
ninety  canals  intersect  the  city,  and  I  know 
there  is  one  in  about  every  street,  and  draw- 
bridges are  built  over  them.  In  the  prettier 
parts  of  the  city  these  canals  have  avenues  of 
handsome  residences,  and  lines  of  shade  trees 
on  one  or  both  sides.  On  these  houses,  nailed 
close  to  the  side  of  the  upper  windows,  we  ob- 
served the  so-called  '  Spiegless '  mirrors  —  on 
hinges,  which  could  be  turned  so  as  to  allow  a 
person  sitting  within  to  see  all  that  was  going 
on  in  the  street  below,  up  or  down.  They 
answer  the  purposes  of  our  bay-windows.  In 
some  of  the  older  parts  of  the  city  the  queer 
Dutch  houses  are  painted  black,  with  white 
trimmings,  and  were  apparently  '  dropped  down ' 
together,  and  remain  wherever  they  happened 
to  light,  Marblehead-like ;  and  in  many  of  them 
the  upper  story  pitches  forward,  as  if  to  greet 
the  opposite  roof,  in  a  most  neighborly  and 


254  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

social  manner,  and  altogether  they  are  exceed- 
ingly picturesque. 

We  visited  one  of  the  large  diamond  factor- 
ies, and  saw  every  process  used  on  the  stone  in 
its  rough  condition,  to  cause  it  to  become  the 
glittering,  costly  gem,  ready  for  the  adornment 
of  'my  lady.'  The  different  work  upon  the 
stones  was  to  me  intensely  interesting.  We 
•saw  little  mounds  of  diamonds,  cut  and  pol- 
ished, ready  for  the  diamond  market,  that 
were  radiantly  brilliant.  The  gentleman  who 
escorted  us  through  the  building  was  very 
polite,  and  exerted  himself  to  give  us  clear  ex- 
planations of  everything  we  wished  to  under- 
stand. Two  officials  kept  pretty  close  to  us, 
however ;  they  may  have  thought  that  ( piles ' 
of  diamonds  might  prove  too  seductive  for  even 
American  honesty.  These  mills  give  employ- 
ment to  about  ten  thousand  workmen,  mostly 
Jews,  and  many  of  the  establishments  are 
owned  by  wealthy  Jews.  Most  of  the  best  cut 
stones  of  the  present  age  have  been  cut  here. 
Well,  we  cannot  always  live  amongst  dia- 
monds, so  out  into  the  air  we  go,  for  if  but 
one  can  be  ours,  the  latter  is  better,  —  oxygen 
rather  than  carbon. 


LETTER   XII.  255 

The  commerce  of  the  place  is  extensive,  as  a 
visit  to  the  docks  proved.  Ships  from  nearly 
every  part  of  the  world  bring  merchandise 
here,  and  take  back  the  products  of  Holland. 
Amsterdam  cheese,  gin,  and  chocolate  we  well 
know,  but  we  did  not  suppose  so  many  other 
valuable  articles  were  manufactured  here.  We 
see  not  merely  one  woman  at  work  here  on 
the  boats,  but  hundreds  of  women.  Many  of 
them  know  no  other  home ;  whole  families  live 
on  boats,  children  are  born  on  them,  and  on 
them  many  human  beings  close  their  eyes  on 
this  life.  Everything  about  these  boats  is 
scrupulously  clean;  pretty  Dutch  girls,  with 
their  short  dresses  and  wooden  shoes,  peep 
from  behind  the  fresh,  white  muslin  curtains 
to  look  at  us ;  and  women  who  are  not  doing 
harder  work  sit  around  with  the  inevitable 
queer  head-dress  on,  and  the  blue  kerchiefs 
pinned  across  their  breasts,  knitting  away  as  if 
lives  depended  upon  stockings  being  finished. 
These  Amsterdam  canal  boats  have  sails,  and 
look  very  odd  to  us. 

We  took  a  three-mile  sail  for  a  rest,  then 
landed,  and  lunched  in  a  rose-embowered 


256  A   BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

arbor  in  a  pretty  garden.  Refreshed,  we  took 
a  barge  back,  thus  getting  good  views  of  the 
river  banks ;  and  next  went  to  the  Zoological 
Gardens,  the  best  we  have  seen  anywhere. 
How  the  beautiful,  bright-plum  aged  birds, 
walking  and  flying  in  the  open  air,  seemingly 
free  from  the  almost  invisible  chains  that  held 
them,  welcomed  us  in  their  gorgeous  costumes ; 
how  the  tall  flamingo  showed  us  his  best  ballet 
steps,  —  I  have  not  time  to  give  you  details. 
The  extensive  aquarium  connected  with  the  gar- 
dens contained  a  wealth  of  wonders.  Why  do 
we  not  have  places  of  such  interest  in  Boston  ? 
As  we  stepped  out  of  the  garden  we  observed, 
on  a  neat-looking  house,  a  singular  sign,  l  Hot 
Popjies.'  With  our  usual  curiosity  we  entered, 
and  found  that  l  popjies '  were  nothing  more 
or  less  than  genuine  Yankee  griddle  cakes, 
and  very  good  ones  too,  served  with  butter  and 
sugar. 

The  best  picture  gallery  in  Amsterdam,  the 
Rijks  Museum,  is  the  best  in  Holland.  Here 
we  saw  Rembrandt's  '  Night  Watch,'  of  which 
we  have  often  seen  engravings,  but  were  not 
prepared  for  such  beautiful  effects  of  colors  as 


LETTER    XII.  257 

we  found  in  the  original.  Near  this  painting 
is  a  still  larger  one,  representing  a  celebrated 
banquet  of  the  City  Guard  of  Amsterdam,  in 
1684,  by  Vander  Heist,  and  here  too  is  Jan 
Steen's  *  Lady  and  the  Parrot,'  and  other  beau- 
tiful paintings  by  this  pleasing  artist.  One 
picture  here,  by  Gerard  Duow,  called  the  '  Even- 
ing School/  cost  forty  thousand  dollars,  although 
not  over  a  half-yard  long,  and  not  measuring 
as  much  across.  This  painting  has  five  or  six 
different  effects  of  light  produced  on  it  from 
the  burning  candles  represented.  A  girl  is 
pointing  to  her  lesson  with  her  finger,  and  a 
boy  is  writing  on  a  slate ;  a  candle,  held  by 
another  girl  standing  back  of  them,  throws  a 
light  on  their  backs,  and  another  candle, 
lighted,  which  is  on  a  table,  throws  light 
upon  their  faces,  but  it  would  be  impossible 
for  you  to  imagine  the  peculiar  glow  and  love- 
liness of  it  all.  All  of  the  works  from  this 
man's  easel  are  charming.  There  are  here  sev- 
eral of  Paul  Potter's  paintings,  wonderful  in 
execution,  and  particularly  to  be  considered  so 
when  we  think  how  young  he  must  have  been 
when  he  painted  them.  Here  are  hens,  chick- 


258  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

ens,  geese,  and  ducks,  all  so  natural  that  we 
almost  hear  their  cackle.  Here  are  landscapes, 
interiors  of  Dutch  homes,  and  portraits  with- 
out number,  works  of  Tenier,  Van  Mieris,  Van 
Dyck,  Peter  Schilder,  Dolens,  Frans  Hals,  and 
the  many  other  Dutch  artists.  It  is  one  of  the 
most  enjoyable  collections  of  pictures  we  have 
anywhere  seen.  It  is  a  marvel  to  me  how  the 
old  masters  and  the  noted  artists  ever  did  so 
much  work  ;  they  must  have  gone  right  ahead, 
and  not  even  laid  down  their  brushes  long 
enough  to  have  had  pleasant  little  disputes  over 
the  hanging  of  their  pictures.  But  thanks  to 
them  for  having  left  to  us  such  great  sources 
of  pleasure ! 

Amsterdam  abounds  in  excellent  charitable 
institutions.  I  think  I  could  name  over  as 
many  as  there  are  in  Boston ;  and  there  are 
schools  and  societies  for  educating  the  poor, 
and  for  their  advancement,  that  do  great  credit 
to  the  citizens.  I  am  told  that  the  rich  here 
of  every  sect  spend  freely  their  money  for 
the  benefit  of  the  poor.  There  is  a  palace  on 
a  square  called  the  Dam,  in  the  middle  of  the 
city,  containing  large  rooms,  but  without  much 


LETTER    XII.  259 

elegance  excepting  the  ball-room.  The  churches 
of  the  city  are  numerous,  and  some  fine  ones, 
but  as  we  have  not  time  to  see  everything  in 
this  remarkable  place,  we  have  decided  to  omit 
the  churches  this  time. 

We  were  told  of  a  '  swell '  restaurant,  and 
for  a  change  dined  there  to-day.  It  was  a 
( swell '  place,  we  had  a  '  swell '  dinner,  and  paid 
'  swell '  prices.  They  certainly  know  how  to 
tempt  one's  appetite,  but  the  submitting  to  the 
temptation  must  be  generously  paid  for.  We 
have  seen  a  fine  statue  of  Rembrandt ;  and  we 
have  observed  objects  very  new  to  us,  which 
are  queer,  ludicrous-looking  faces,  over  the 
doors  of  drug  stores,  with  mouths  wide  open, 
and  tongues  protruding,  as  if  to  show  that 
they  were  coated,  or  feverish,  and  needed 
doctoring.  I  was  so  amused  at  these  that  I 
asked  the  meaning  of  them,  if  they  had  any, 
but  no  one  seemed  to  know,  only  that  they 
were  called  '  Gappers.' 

After  seeing  pretty  thoroughly  the  business 
part  of  the  city,  we  were  more  surprised  than 
ever  upon  being  driven  to  the  aristocratic  end, 
where  the  wealthier  people  live,  to  find  so  much 


260  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

beauty.  The  streets  were  broad  and  finely 
cared  for ;  the  residences  palatial,  large,  and 
varied  in  architecture,  with  beautiful  grounds 
about  them.  Fine  carriages  abounded,  filled 
with  well-dressed  people,  in  whom  we  supposed 
we  saw  the  descendants  of  the  Van  Dycks,  Van 
de  Werffs,  and  all  of  the  other  Vans  ;  and  these 
families  maintain  much  elegance  and  regal  style 
in  living.  In  this  drive  we  had  many  glimpses 
of  it ;  and  ended  the  day  by  being  entertained 
right  royally  in  one  of  these  beautiful  homes  by 
a  gentleman  and  his  charming  family,  to  whom 
we  had  letters  of  introduction,  and  who  had 
previously  called  upon  us,  and  engaged  us  for 
the  evening.  If  we  could  have  spared  time  to 
accept,  these  people  would  have  extended  many 
courtesies  to  us,  and  their  cordial  hospitality  we 
shall  never  forget.  The  whole  of  Amsterdam 
is  indeed  delightful,  and  far  exceeds  my  expec- 
tations. We  leave  it  with  regret.  We  made 
hasty  excursions  to  Haarlem,  to  see  the  wonder- 
ful hyacinths  and  tulips ;  and  to  the  over-clean 
town  of  Broek,  where  notices  are  put  on  doors 
'  to  take  off  your  shoes  before  entering ; '  and 
to  the  Island  of  Marken,  in  the  Zuider  Zee,  to 


LETTER    XII.  261 

see  the  queer  dress  of  the  peasants  who  live 
there,  and  never  leave  their  homes,  nor  ever 
intermarry  with  the  inhabitants  of  the  main- 
land. Their  costume  is  the  same  as  that  worn 
by  their  ancestors  of  a  hundred  years  ago. 


LETTER  XIII. 

HOTEL  VIEUX  DOELEN, 
THE  HAGUE,  HOLLAND,  August  6th,  1888. 

IN  coming  from  Amsterdam  here  we  saw 
water-lilies  —  sheets  of  them  —  on  rivers  and 
dikes  !  Yes,  just  like  our  own  New  England 
blossoms.  How  I  did  want  the  cars  to  stop, 
so  that  I  could  get  a  breath  of  their  fragrance 
—  a  breath  of  Cape  Cod  —  a  breath  of  Ply- 
mouth ponds  —  a  breath  of  East  Taunton's 
sweetest  offerings  I  We  saw  storks  too,  tall  and 
stately,  carrying  with  them  good  luck,  and 
bearing  good  omens.  Our  hotel  here  is  a  noted 
one ;  it  is  several  centuries  old,  and  has  been 
always  the  stopping  place  for  members  of  noble 
families,  travelling  from  all  over  the  world. 
It  has  been  several  times  restored,  and  is  very 
comfortable.  Peter  the  Great  and  his  suite, 


264  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

King  Don  Ferdinand  of  Portugal,  and  a  list, 
as  long  as  your  arm,  of  kings,  princes,  and 
dukes,  have  been  registered  as  guests  in  this 
historic  old  mansion.  On  our  arrival  the  house 
was  crowded,  and  to  F.  and  myself  was  given 
the  state  guest  chamber,  in  which  these  crowned 
heads  have  rested.  The  furniture  of  the  large 
room,  which  is  on  the  first  floor,  is  massive, 
made  of  mahogany,  ebony  and  gilt,  with  light- 
blue  silk  coverings,  and  puffs  of  light- blue 
silk  to  throw  over  our  tired  bodies.  So  much 
elegance  for  us,  while  E.  is  tucked  up  under 
the  roof  somewhere,  so  full  is  the  house. 

After  arranging  our  luggage  in  our  room, 
and  resting  a  wee  bit,  off  we  started  for  Schev- 
eningen.  It  took  but  a  short  time  to  reach 
this  celebrated  watering-place  by  steam-cars, 
which  we  took  to  save  time.  As  we  stepped 
out  of  our  car  at  the  station  a  strange  picture 
greeted  us.  There  before  us  was  the  North 
Sea,  throwing  its  big  waves  toward  the  beach 
— the  first  glimpse  of  sea  that  we  had  had  for 
many  a  day,  and  its  roar  was  music  to  us.  The 
broad  beach  was  smooth,  hard,  and  white,  and 
at  this  point  was  covered,  as  were  also  the 


LETTER   XIII.  265 

dunes  in  back  of  it,  with  the  peasantry,  Dutch 
women  and  children,  old  grandmothers,  and 
mothers  with  their  little  ones  of  all  ages, 
playing  in  the  beautiful  white  sand.  We 
spread  our  wraps  on  the  beach,  and  sat  down 
amongst  them  and  we  are  evidently  as  strange 
a  sight  to  them,  as  they  are  to  us.  The  wee 
urchins  gradually  approach  us  in  a  shy  manner, 
but  E.  coaxes  them  nearer  by  distributing  bits 
of  coin  amongst  them,  and  speaking  words 
which  they  understand ;  and  a  close  look  at 
their  sweet,  fresh  faces  is  worth  the  price. 
These  little  ones  are  fair,  rosy-cheeked,  blue- 
eyed  tots,  with  long,  flaxen  tresses,  surmounted 
by  little,  close,  white  caps.  They  are  dressed 
alike,  in  dark-blue  dresses,  with  little  handker- 
chiefs crossed  on  their  chests,  and  all  wear 
wooden  shoes.  The  costumes  of  old  and 
young  vary  but  little,  and  all  look  fresh  and 
clean.  The  women  were  knitting,  and  chatting 
with  each  other,  and  occasionally  one  would  go 
toward  the  water,  hold  her  hands  over  her  eyes, 
and  peer  far  out  to  sea.  They  were  straining 
their  sight  to  catch  glimpses  of  the  boats  that 
carried  the  men  most  dear  to  them.  These 


266  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

wives  and  mothers  come  mornings  with  their 
fishermen,  push  them  out  on  the  water  in  their 
boats  with  a  '  God  speed  you,'  and  then  stay 
on  the  beach,  with  their  children  and  their 
knitting,  until  the  men  sail  in  again.  They 
then  help  drag  the  boats  on  shore,  unload,  and 
carry  the  freshly  caught  fish  to  market.  The 
lucky  fellow  who  has  caught  the  greatest 
number  of  fish  as  his  day's  work  is  entitled  to 
kiss  the  maid  he  thinks  the  prettiest  in  the 
crowd,  and  the  rest  look  on  and  clap  their 
hands,  and  there  seems  to  be  no  jealousy 
amongst  them.  The  Dutch  fishing  boats,  with 
their  brown  sails,  are  queer-looking  craft,  and 
have  been  painted  by  many  of  our  own  artists. 
The  beach  from  here  extends  for  about  forty 
miles,  I  am  told,  in  a  straight  line,  washed 
by  the  cold  North  Sea  waves  —  without  rocks 
or  inlets. 

We  next  proceeded  to  the  fashionable  end 
of  the  beach;  a  division  rope  separates  the 
portion  allotted  to  the  fisherwonien  from  this. 
What  will  divide  the  poor  from  the  rich  in 
heaven,  I  wonder?  Will  it  not  be  Father 
Abraham's  voice  only,  when  he  says  the  words, 


LETTER    XIII.  267 

1  Remember  that  thou  in  thy  lifetime  receivedst 
thy  good  things '?  How  different  this  scene ! 
Here  is  a  fashionable  watering-place,  with 
huge  hotels,  restaurants,  stores,  and  crowds 
of  stylish  people.  This  is  more  like  Old  Point, 
Narragausett,  or  Newport  than  anything  we 
have  before  seen.  But  the  beach  is  superior 
to  any  of  these,  and  the  bathing-wagons  on 
wheels,  in  which  the  bathers  are  carried  to  the 
water,  and  back  to  the  hotels  after  their  baths, 
were  quite  new  to  us.  They  contain  all  toilet 
utensils,  an  abundance  of  towels,  and  are  most 
certainly  a  great  improvement  over  the  way 
bathers  at  our  own  sea-side  resorts  come  out  of 
the  water,  with  dripping  costumes  clinging  to 
the  skin,  to  face  a  crowd  of  lookers-on.  Here, 
too,  a  space  for  those  who  bathe  is  roped  off, 
and  others  are  not  allowed  to  go  within  that 
enclosure.  The  bath-chairs  were  also  a  great 
delight  to  me.  Here  were  hundreds  of  them, 
basket-work,  with  covers  and  without,  and  foot- 
stools added,  in  which  we  could  sit  and  look 
upon  the  sea,  protected  from  the  sun  and  the 
wind.  Some  were  for  one,  and  in  others  two 
or  three  could  sit  together.  The  sense  of  rest 


268  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

was  most  delightful  in  these  chairs,  with  the 
broad,  blue  expanse  of  water  and  sky  before 
us.  Gay,  merry  children  were  riding  about  on 
ponies  and  donkeys,  and  the  road  between  the 
hotels  and  the  beach  was  filled  with  carriages 
and  people  on  horseback. 

But  the  hours  flew  rapidly  amidst  such  scenes 
as  these,  and  the  sun  was  going  to  rest ;  so, 
reluctantly,  we  turned  our  steps  toward  the 
big  hotel  on  the  crest.  The  piazzas  were 
crowded  with  people  in  full  dress,  but,  with  our 
travelling  gowns  on,  we  mixed  in,  and  went  to 
dinner.  In  the  house  was  a  beautiful  hall  or 
concert  room,  and  after  dinner  the  Philhar- 
monic Orchestra  of  Berlin  gave  a  choice  concert 
there.  The  music  was  superb,  and  nowhere  in 
Europe  had  we  seen  so  fine-looking  an  assem- 
blage ;  many  of  the  ladies  were  remarkably 
handsome,  and  all  were  dressed  in  excellent 
taste. 

Hotel  Vieux  Doelen,  The  Hague,  August 
7th.  —  You  would  have  laughed  had  you  been 
with  us  in  our  fine  room  this  morning.  Our 
commode  looks  like  a  sideboard,  and  is  so 
high  that  I  had  to  stand  on  a  chair  to  take  my 


LETTER    XIII.  269 

morning  splash  ;  and  as  I  began  to  fill  my  bowl 
with  water,  something  jumped,  and  so  did  I. 
c  The  shade  of  Peter  the  Great !'  said  F.,  but 
it  was  only  a  little,  harmless  toad,  which  had 
probably  come  in  at  the  window,  which  I  had 
left  open.  The  arrangements  for  bathing  and 
washing  in  houses  in  this  land  are  very  meagre 
and  inconvenient. 

The  Hague  seems  a  very  elegant,  sleepy, 
quiet  city.  The  streets  are  broad,  many 
of  them  bordered  with  handsome  limes,  and 
the  residences  are  large  and  square.  Canals 
are  here,  also,  but  do  not  seem  to  be  used 
much,  if  any,  and  the  water  looks  stagnant. 
In  one  street,  the  odor  from  the  canal  was 
very  offensive,  although  the  streets  on  its  bor- 
ders were  beautiful  ones,  and  this  is  the  resi- 
dence of  the  Court ;  in  fact,  the  place  has  really 
the  appearance  of  an  exclusive  little  royal  city 
dropped  in  the  centre  of  a  grand  old  forest. 
It  has  pretty  parks  and  gardens,  and  a  plea- 
sant promenade  around  a  lake,  called  the 
Vijver,  or  fish  pond,  from  the  water  of  which 
the  old  palace  seems  to  be  rising.  In  the 
square  is  the  statue  of  William  the  Silent,  who 


270  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

did  so  much  to  effect  the  liberty  of  Holland, 
and  who  was  a  father  to  its  people.  This 
brave  man's  faith  never  failed  him,  nor  did  he 
ever  swerve  from  what  seemed  to  him  his 
duty,  through  political  storms  or  discouraging 
defeats  ;  freedom  for  all,  and  the  right  to  wor- 
ship God  in  accordance  with  the  dictates  of 
one's  own  conscience  he  fought  for  as  long  as 
he  lived.  In  Delft,  a  little  town  near  by,  he 
was  struck  down  by  an  assassin. 

The  best  stores  here  have  very  little  appear- 
ance, from  the  outside,  of  being  stores  at  all. 
Perhaps,  as  a  sign,  there  is  one  elegant  vase, 
or  a  choice  piece  of  drapery  in  the  window ; 
but  upon  stepping  within,  room  after  room 
filled  with  exquisite  goods  surprises  you  —  rare 
laces,  china,  furniture,  antiques,  and  every- 
thing else  beautiful  to  tempt  one  to  buy. 

I  very  much  wished  to  go  into  the  palace 
where  the  King  of  Holland  and  his  family 
live.  We  have  seen  many  palaces  where 
royalty  has  resided,  but  few  occupied  by  kings 
and  queens  at  the  present  time.  We  suc- 
ceeded in  gaining  permission  to  do  so,  not 
expecting  to  see  more  than  the  state  apart- 


LETTER    XIII.  271 

ments.     As  we  neared  the  palace  entrance  we 
saw  the  royal  carriage  stop  at  the  door  and  the 
King  and  Queen  and  their  little  daughter  the 
Princess  Wilhelmine,  with    a   maid,  enter   it. 
The  carriage  was  a   heavy,  lumbering-looking 
affair  with  two  horses  only.     We  might  have 
been  much  nearer  them,  but  our  escort  said 
no,  as  an  introduction  might  then  be   neces- 
sary, and  it  was  no  compliment  to  American 
ladies   to   be  presented   to  *the   present   King 
of   Holland,  but   I   looked  with  all   my  eyes 
and  this  is  what  I   saw :    A  man,   over   sev- 
enty years  old  surely,  feeble-appearing  in  his 
gait,  and,  although    not  bad  looking,  with  a 
certain   tell-tale   appearance   of   having   led   a 
somewhat  profligate  life.     The  young  Queen 
Emma   looks   about   twenty-eight,   has   a   full 
face,  bright  complexion,  and  pleasant  expres- 
sion, and  was  dressed  in  a  gray  costume.     She 
is,  you  know,  his  second  wife,  and  a  daughter 
of  the  Prince  of  Waldeck-Pyrmont,  one  of  the 
poor,  insignificant  sovereigns  of  Germany,  and 
she    is    sister    to  the  Duchess  of  Albany,  the 
daughter-in-law  of  Queen  Victoria.     It  is  said 
there  was  much  feeling  on  the  part   of   the 


272  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

Dutch  against  this  young  woman  at  first,  for 
it  was  thought  her  great  ambition  was  to  be 
Queen  of  the  Netherlands;  but  she  has  made 
her  way  into  the  hearts  of  the  people,  and  has 
proved  also  a  good  wife  and  mother.  The 
King's  first  wife  was  the  Princess  Sophia  of 
Wurtemburg,  and  was  a  remarkably  talented, 
gracious  woman,  a  fine  linguist,  musical,  a 
charming  conversationalist,  unaffected,  affable 
in  manner,  and  dearly  beloved  by  her  people. 
She  died  about  ten  years  ago.  She  had  two 
sons,  both  now  dead.  So  the  little  Wilhel- 
mine,  whom  we  saw,  will  be,  after  her  father's 
death,  which  cannot  be  far  off,  the  Queen  of 
Holland.  She  is  a  pretty  child,  and  looked  in 
dress  and  movements  no  different  from  hun- 
dreds of  our  own  little  eight-year-old  girls. 
The  people  here  seem  to  be  much  attached  to 
their  king,  and  say  he  has  been  a  benefactor  to 
them,  and  that  his  public  life  has  been  beyond 
reproach,  whatever  his  faults  in  private  life 
may  have  been. 

As  they  drove  away  we  entered  the  palace 
through  the  same  door  at  which  they  came 
out,  and  were  most  kindly  shown  through  it- 


LETTER    XIII.  273 

Their  breakfast-table  remained  just  as  the 
family  had  left  it  after  taking  their  morning 
meal.  Probably  servants  do  not  hurry  '  to 
clear  off  the  table'  in  royal  households,  any 
more  than  they  do  in  our  own  homes  when  we 
go  out  for  a  morning  jaunt.  Everything  in 
the  dining-room  was  rich  and  elegant,  and  the 
gold  breakfast-service  worth  looking  at.  The 
drawing-rooms,  reception-rooms,  libraries,  and 
other  apartments  were  in  truth  palatial,  and 
altogether  it  was  by  far  the  finest  palace  we 
have  seen. 

They  have  another  palace  about  three  miles 
away,  called  '  Huis-ten-Bosch,'  or  House  in  the 
Wood,  to  which  a  little  later  we  were  driven  ; 
and  it  was  a  drive,  the  memory  of  which  will 
always  seem  restful.  The  day  was  lovely,  and 
as  we  rolled  along  over  the  splendid  road  in 
the  woods,  which  is  really  an  immense,  woody 
park,  retaining  all  its  natural  beauties,  it  was 
so  quiet  that  we  could  hear  a  leaf  fall.  The 
birds  only  broke  the  stillness  with  their  occa- 
sional trills,  and  we  met  no  life  on  our  way 
excepting  a  party  of  ladies  on  horseback  with 
their  groom.  After  so  much  bustle  the  rest- 


274  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

ful,  shadowy  stillness  was  delightful  to  us. 
This  summer  palace  is  a  plain  building  sur- 
rounded by  beech  trees,  is  very  richly  furnished, 
and  contains  valuable  pictures  and  rare,  costly 
ornaments,  superb  draperies,  and  curiosities. 
Queen  Sophia  dearly  loved  this  '  Huis-ten- 
Bosch,'  and  spent  much  of  her  time  within  it. 
Here  she  cordially  welcomed  her  friends,  with- 
out ceremony,  forgetful  of  station  and  self,  ever 
keenly  alive  to  the  happiness  and  needs  of  all 
who  came  into  her  presence.  She  once  re- 
marked '  that  God  seemed  nearer  to  her  here 
than  elsewhere.'  The  present  Queen  seldom 
comes  here. 

We  next  went  into  the  Holland  Exposition, 
now  open.  O  dear !  the  days  are  not  half 
long  enough  to  see  all  we  wish  to.  You  will 
be  glad,  I  know,  when  I  tell  you  that  we  do 
not  get  very  tired.  We  ride  instead  of  walk- 
ing much,  so  as  to  save  our  strength  for  in- 
teriors where  we  must  walk  and  stand ;  and  we 
eat  often,  for  E.  says  *  machinery  so  constantly 
run  must  be  often  oiled.'  How  I  wish  I  could 
run  in  to  '  144 '  to-day  and  have  one  of  their 
delicious  home  dinners,  —  roast  chickens,  all 


LETTER    XIII.  275 

kind  of  vegetables,  prepared  just  right,  jellies 
and  pickles,  and  all  at  hand  when  wanted,  and, 
not  the  least  of  the  sweets,  the  always  sweet 
welcome,  thrown  in !  We  do  get  so  tired  of 
these  table  d'hote  dinners,  —  every  dish  served 
without  any  seasoning,  and  only  one  at  a  time, 
and  the  waits  between  courses  long  enough  for 
one's  hair  to  grow  gray.  And  yet  what  crea- 
tures of  habit  we  are.  E.  likes  it,  because  he 
has  lived  over  here  so  much  of  his  life  that  he 
has  become  accustomed  to  it.  It  is  a  perverted 
taste,  and  most  surely  a  great  waste  of  precious 
time.  Our  bill  of  fare  for  dinner  has  been  just 
about  the  same  every  day  since  we  left  the 
Schweizerhoff  at  Schaffhausen,  where  it  was 
most  acceptably  varied. 

To  show  that  we  can  be  wrongly  educated 
in  our  appreciation  of  food  and  in  the  way  we 
eat  it,  I  will  venture  to  tell  you  a  true  story  of 
a  little  boy  we  know,  who  had  lived  in  France 
and  Germany  the  greater  part  of  his  life  of 
ten  years.  He  was  taken  to  New  York  a  year 
or  so  ago,  and  there  studied  English  with  his 
governess.  One  fine  day  his  aunt  took  him  to 
her  home  in  the  country  to  spend  the  day. 


276  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

When  he  returned  at  night  he  said  he  was 
hungry.  '  Why,  did  you  not  have  any  din- 
ner ? '  he  was  asked.  '  I  did  not  eat  any.' 
'Why  not?'  'I  did  not  want  it.'  'Why 
not  ? '  was  again  asked,  curiosity  becoming 
excited.  At  last  the  little  fellow,  so  closely 
questioned,  cried  out  in  despair,  in  his  broken 
English,  '  Because  Auntie  had  "  swill "  for 
dinner.'  Upon  investigation  it  was  ascertained 
that  the  dinner  was  the  old-fashioned,  substan- 
tial one  of  corned  beef  and  its  satellites  of 
various  vegetables  served  at  the  same  time. 
The  boy,  the  day  before,  had  been  reading  a 
story  about  pigs,  in  which  the  word  '  swill '  was 
used.  He  asked  his  teacher  what  that  word 
meant,  —  an  inelegant  one  at  best,  —  and  she 
told  him,  a  little  hastily  perhaps,  that  it  meant 
bits  of  meat,  potato,  turnip,  or  other  particles  of 
food  all  thrown  together ;  and  he  thought,  in 
his  day's  visit,  that  he  had  an  ocular  and  tan- 
gible demonstration  of  the  definition. 

The  Hague,  Wednesday,  August  8th.  — 
The  memorables  of  to-day:  First,  the  Royal 
Picture  Gallery,  where  are  many  costly  and 
valuable  treasures.  I  have  anticipated  much 


LETTER   XIII.  277 

pleasure  in  seeing  the  collection  here,  knowing 
well  of  many  of  the  paintings,  and  I  have  not 
been  disappointed.  Rembrandt's  '  Lecture  on 
Anatomy,'  known  of  the  world  over,  is  a  won- 
derful study,  and  a  grand  representation  of 
death  and  life  on  canvas.  The  old  learned 
doctor  Nicholas  Tulp,  with  a  dead  body  before 
him,  is  explaining  to  seven  other  surgeons  the 
dissecting  of  the  subject.  These  faces  are  all 
real  portraits  of  physicians,  and  the  expressions 
of  interest  and  attention  given  in  them  to  the 
lecturer's  words  and  movements  are  grandly 
and  wonderfully  portrayed.  Nor  is  there  the 
slightest  thing  repulsive  in  the  picture  ;  on  the 
contrary,  it  has  the  effect  of  making  one 
desirous  of  sitting  down  to  listen  to  the  les- 
son also.  Here  too  is  Rembrandt's  i  Presenta- 
tion,' a  perfect  gem  :  Joseph  and  Mary  are  pre- 
senting the  '  Holy  Child  '  for  a  blessing.  Paul 
Potter's  famous  '  Bull '  is  here,  which  Napoleon 
once  stole  and  took  to  Paris,  and  it  was  then 
rated  as  the  fourth  picture  in  the  Louvre,  but 
after  Napoleon's  star  of  power  had  set  the 
Dutch  reclaimed  it.  This  picture  represents  a 
bull,  looking  as  if  really  alive,  standing  under 


278  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

the  branches  of  a  tree ;  a  cow,  and  a  lamb  with 
its  parents,  are  also  near  by  resting,  and  a  pleas- 
ant-faced old  farmer,  standing  with  his  arm  on 
the  trunk  of  the  tree,  is  looking  on  well  satisfied. 
These  figures  are  life  size,  and  are  full  of  vigor. 
Although  the  collection  here  does  not  please 
me  as  much  as  the  one  in  Amsterdam,  it 
contains  many  gems  of  the  Dutch  and  Flemish 
schools.  Here  are  Berghems,  Van  Der  Heists, 
and  Ruysdaels  —  mellow  landscapes  and  restful 
pastoral  scenes,  helpful  to  look  upon.  But  oh, 
I  wish  you  could  see  all  the  grand  paintings 
that  are  in  this  country  !  It  pains  me,  dear 
mother,  to  enjoy  so  much  and  you  not  with  me ; 
but  we  shall  not  forget  all  we  see,  and  will  tell 
you  more  about  it  sometime. 

Storks  are  kept  in  the  city  at  the  public 
expense,  as  they  are  the  arms  of  The  Hague,  the 
same  as  bears  are  of  the  city  of  Berne.  And 
now,  good-by  to  this  aristocratic  town,  and  on 
to  Rotterdam,  our  last  Holland  city. 

Rotterdam  is  something  like  Amsterdam, 
although  not  nearly  as  attractive,  nor  anywhere 
nearly  as  clean.  It  is  a  large  place,  and  its 
shipping  interests  considerable  ;  its  canals  and 


LETTER    XIII.  279 

wharves  are  crowded.  Here,  as  in  Amsterdam, 
the  houses  are,  many  of  them,  built  on  piles, 
and  the  land  is  kept  land  by  keeping  the  water 
in  the  canals,  locks,  and  basins.  It  requires 
much  money,  good  systems,  and  much  energy 
to  do  this,  but  the  Dutch  have  proved  themselves 
equal  to  it.  We  hear  here  such  names  as  the 
'  Hoogstraat '  (one  of  the  streets),  the  '  Schie- 
damsche  dyke/  etc.,  regular  jaw-breakers.  In 
fact,  I  think  if  Americans  can  understand  or 
be  understood  in  Holland,  they  need  have  no 
fears  of  not  being  able  to  travel  in  other  parts 
of  the  globe,  so  far  as  '  language  *  is  concerned. 
We  took  a  drive  through  the  new  portion  of 
the  city,  where  are  many  elegant  residences. 
We  went  into  two  churches ;  saw  a  fine  statue 
of  Erasmus  the  scholar,  also  one  of  Spinoza.  We 
then  went  into  many  of  the  old,  crooked,  narrow 
streets  of  the  older  part  of  the  city,  called 
Binnenstad,  and  here  everything  looked  very 
'  Dutch '  like ;  and  it  is  the  queer  aspect  of  these 
foreign  cities  that  I  particularly  enjoy, —  the 
markets  on  market-day  especially.  The  peas- 
ants at  their  stalls,  in  the  funny  gowns  and 
funnier  head-dresses,  are  perfectly  fascinating. 
We  bought  delicious  cherries  and  strawberries 


280  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

of  them  to-day.  Some  of  the  women  had 
caps  on  that  had  long  capes,  others  with  caps 
close  to  the  head,  and  others  with  inside 
frills,  but  one  and  all  had  the  gold,  gilt,  or  sil- 
ver band  across  the  forehead,  and  the  wire 
rosettes  and  pendants  at  the  temples. 

We  talked  up  our  little  stock  of  Dutch  his- 
tory here,  remembering  that  it  was  in  this  town 
that  the  Puritans  of  England,  when  persecuted, 
fled  for  refuge  ;  and  here  '  John  Robinson  [one 
of  our  own  ancestors]  fired  them  with  longings 
for  liberty,  and  they  set  sail  to  go  across  two 
seas  to  find  a  new  home  where  they  would  have 
freedom  to  worship  God.'  What  an  amount  of 
studying  we  will  do  next  winter,  and  Motley's 
1  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Republic '  we  are  looking 
forward  to  reading  with  much  pleasure. 

Our  admiration  of  the  Dutch,  always  great, 
is  much  increased  by  this  trip  through  their 
country.  When  one  sees  the  obstacles  they 
had  to  contend  against  in  making  their  land 
habitable  —  old  ocean  itself  for  one, —  and  the 
victory  they  have  achieved,  it  seems  more  won- 
derful even  than  their  conquering  the  tyranny 
of  Spain.  They  are  an  industrious,  persever- 
ing, and  honest  people. 


LETTER  XIV. 

HOTEL  DE  I/EUROPE, 
ANTWERP,  BELGIUM,  August  9,  1888. 

WE  reached  here  last  night  in  time  to  take 
a  look  at  this  old  city  and  to  hear  the  ring- 
ing- of  '  bells,  bells,  bells.'  We  thought  at 
first  they  were  ringing  on  account  of  our 
arrival,  or  for  some  other  unusual  occasion,  but 
find  we  were  mistaken.  The  bells  of  Antwerp 
are  ringing  always.  We  find  at  our  hotel  the 
M.'s,  our  pleasant  Chamouni  friends,  and  it 
was  a  pleasant  surprise  indeed  to  have  them 
meet  and  greet  us  ;  also  Rev.  Mr.  G.,  of  Bos- 
ton. 

Immediately  after  breakfast  this  morning  we 
started  for  Brussels.  We  made  every  effort  to 
have  an  early  breakfast  and  have  it  quickly 


282  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

served,  but  the  people  of  this  land  never  hurry ; 
they  do  not  know  the  meaning  of  the  word. 
At  eight  A.  M.  we  were  seated  at  our  table  in 
the  dining-room  ready  to  eat,  and  had  ordered 
our  breakfast  prepared  one  hour  before,  but 
there  was  nothing  ready  for  us.  '  Will  you 
hurry  up  our  breakfast  ?  '  said  E.  to  our  sleepy- 
looking  waiter.  Slowly  he  answered,  '  It  is 
cooking,'  in  'his  own  lingo.  Ten  minutes  go 
by.  Another  nod  to  the  stolid  waiter ;  and  in 
tones  of  entreaty,  accompanied  with  a  piece  of 
money,  E.  said,  '  Will  you  not  bring  us  some- 
thing to  eat  ? '  The  man,  still  standing  as  stiff 
as  a  post,  replied,  '  It  is  coming.'  *  But  we 
leave  at  eleven  o'clock,'  said  E.  in  the  man's 
own  language.  But  the  stupid  Belgian  did 
not  see  the  joke,  and  did  not  relax  a  muscle. 

We  have  had  a  delightful  day  in  Brussels, 
and  modern  Brussels  is  a  beautiful  city  and  in 
many  ways  much  like  Paris.  It  has  broad, 
handsome  streets  and  boulevards,  beautiful 
parks,  squares  and  gardens,  with  many  rich 
statues,  monuments,  artificial  lakes  and  foun- 
tains. The  city  is  built  on  and  up  and  down 
a  hill  —  the  new  and  elegant  part  of  Brussels 


LETTER    XIV.  283 

on  top,  and  the  old  and  poorer  part  at  the  foot. 
The  royal  family  of  Belgium  live  here,  and 
have  several  handsome  palaces.  The  Capitol 
is  a  magnificent  structure,  and  there  are  many 
noted  churches ;  we  went  into  several  of 
them,  but  of  all  these  things  I  shall  not  now 
tell  you  very  much. 

Service  is  always  going  on  in  some  one  part 
of  these  European  cathedrals.  In  one  that 
we  stepped  into  to-day  they  were  celebrating 
funeral  rites,  and  before  us  were  placed  some 
painful  paintings  of  Christ,  showing  his  bleed- 
ing wounds.  The  Cathedral  of  St.  Gudule  is 
the  largest  and  finest,  and  contains  a  great 
number  of  perfectly  magnificent  tapestries. 

We  went  into  the  largest  art  gallery  in  the 
city,  where  are  many  choice  works,  and  we 
greatly  enjoyed  them ;  but  here  too  are  more 
of  Rubens'  plump  angels,  of  anything  but 
angelic  proportions,  and  I  am  sure  if  our  Sun- 
day-school children  at  home  should  see  some  of 
them  they  would  never  sing,  '  I  want  to  be  an 
angel,'  any  more.  Here  are  more  of  Tennier's 
beautiful  productions,  and  fine  pictures  by 
Vander  Weyden,  Rhemi,  Vander  Meulen,  and 


284  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

other  noted  Flemish  artists,  and  the  collec- 
tions give  good  opportunities  for  studying  the 
Flemish  schools. 

But  the  laces !  These  laces  are  the  most 
tempting  of  all  things.  We  go  into  houses 
that  on  the  outside  look  like  private  homes, 
and  are  politely  asked  to  be  seated  at  tables, 
when  the  women  in  attendance  take  from  boxes 
and  drawers  their  stores  of  rich  fabrics  and 
spread  them  out  for  our  eyes  to  feast  upon  : 
flounces,  handkerchiefs,  fichus,  capes,  collars, 
all  of  the  finest  make  and  of  most  exquisite 
designs.  In  the  Royal  Lace  Manufactory  we 
saw  the  bridal  trousseau  of  some  noble  lady,  so 
called,  which  was  just  completed,  and  the  dress, 
made  entirely  of  the  finest  duchesse  lace,  was  a 
marvel  of  loveliness.  We  were  taken  into  the 
rooms  where  the  women  were  making  the 
'  dentelles,'  and  after  seeing  their  methods  we 
shall  never  again  wonder  that  duchesse  and 
point  laces  are  such  costly  fabrics.  Nearly  all 
the  most  valuable  laces  of  the  world  are  made 
here,  and  many  women  spend  their  entire  lives 
in  making  a  piece  of  lace  to  ornament  some 
other  woman  made  of  the  same  perishable  dust 


LETTER    XIV.  285 

as  themselves  and  of  whom  they  are  the  equals. 
Ah  me  !  We  spent  a  short  time  in  the  Belgium 
Exposition,  now  open,  and  never  before  did  I 
see  in  any  one  collection  such  a  wilderness  of 
rich,  beautiful  objects.  A  drive  about  the 
charming  city,  a  short  stop  in  the  Botanical 
Gardens,  and  we  are  soon  on  the  road  back 
to  Antwerp,  with  mingled  thoughts  of  the 
paintings,  gems,  and  laces  back  of  us,  and  of 
Bonaparte  and  Waterloo,  and  the  historic 
ground  we  are  travelling  over.  We  will  save 
more  time,  and  more  money  too,  for  Brussels 
in  our  next  trip. 

Antwerp,  Friday,  August  Wth. —  This  has 
been  a  rainy  day,  but  we  ought  not  to  com- 
plain, for  we  have  had  but  few  of  them.  We 
have  been  out  all  the  day,  and  have  seen  this 
old  city  pretty  thoroughly,  although  many 
parts  of  it  now  have  a  modern  look.  Yet 
numerous  old  historic  landmarks  remain.  I 
hope  you  will  not  get  weary  of  hearing  about 
art  and  artists,  for  we  are  in  the  laud  of 
Rubens  and  in  the  very  cradle  of  art  here. 
We  saw  to-day  the  house  Rubens  lived  and 
died  in.  He  is  buried  in  the  church  of  St. 


286  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

Jacques,  as  are  also  his  two  wives.  In  this 
church  is  the  picture  of  his  l  Virgin  and 
Child/  with  several  other  figures  on  the  can- 
vas, all  said  to  be  likenesses  of  members  of 
his  family.  In  the  museum  are  many  works 
of  all  the  noted  old  masters  of  the  Dutch  and 
Flemish  school  —  for  Antwerp  gave  birth  to  a 
long  list  of  them  —  and  here  their  works  are 
treasured.  Here  is  the  noted  '  Le  Christ  a  la 
Faille '  —  Christ  dead,  lying  on  a  stone  strewed 
with  straw ;  and  here  too  is  Vandyk's  '  Saviour 
on  the  Cross,'  which  tells  the  whole  sublime 
story.  Of  the  more  modern  pictures,  Lady 
Godiva  is  worthy  of  mention.  The  flesh  tints 
are  exquisite.  She  is  represented  as  just  let- 
ting drop  a  curtain,  which  is  of  a  bright, 
warm  color,  and  her  attitude  is  so  graceful  that 
one  looks  at  her  again  and  again.  Of  the 
many  exquisite  paintings  we  have  seen  here,  I 
will  tell  you  when  I  see  you,  which  will  not  be 
long  now,  God  willing. 

At  noon  it  held  up  a  little,  so  we  took  a 
drive  about  the  town.  Antwerp  is  the  strong- 
hold of  Belgium,  and  there  are  immense  forti- 
fications about  the  city.  The  town  has  known 


LETTER  XIV.  287 

great  vicissitudes,  and  in  old  times  terrible  reli- 
gious persecutions,  but  it  is  now  in  a  most 
prosperous  condition,  and  trades  with  all  the 
large  mercantile  cities  of  the  world,  as  the 
piles  of  all  kinds  of  merchandise  we  saw  at  the 
wharves  proved  to  us.  The  beautiful  double- 
width  black  silks  are  manufactured  here,  and 
can  be  purchased  at  low  prices.  The  shops 
are  fine,  and  present  a  tempting  display  of 
articles. 

I  must  tell  you  of  a  laughable  incident  that 
occurred  to-day.  E.  and  F.  were  walking  in 
front  of  me,  I  lingering  to  look  in'  the  store 
windows,  and  carrying  not  only  my  own  wrap, 
but  one  for  F.  also,  over  my  arm.  Two  fine- 
looking  ladies  paused  to  look  at  us,  for  you 
must  remember  we  are  known  as  foreigners 
everywhere.  One  turned  to  the  other  and 
said,  '  Look,  two  foreign  travellers  and  the 
lady's-maid ! '  I  carry  no  more  wraps ! 

Now,  of  only  one  more  joy  shall  I  tell  you. 
The  cathedral  and  its  contents !  We  had 
looked  again  and  again  at  its  tall,  graceful, 
delicate  spire,  rising  high  above  the  houses, 
and  we  had  heard  its  sweet,  soft  bells  before 


288  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

going  in.  But  now  we  have  seen  its  inside 
walls  and  the  glories  they  hold.  The  interior 
of  the  edifice  is  comparatively  cold  and  barren, 
but  the  paintings  within  are  delightful  and 
surprise  enough  for  a  life-time.  I  forgive 
Rubens  for  his  unangel-like  angels,  that  I 
have  not  liked,  for  these  wonderful  works  here 
of  his  surpass  anything  on  canvas  I  have  ever 
seen.  I  was  expecting  to  behold  something 
unusual  in  '  The  Descent  from  the  Cross,'  but 
not  prepared  for  anything  so  miraculously 
beautiful  and  sublime.  I  could  not  tell  to 
mortal  my  sensations  upon  first  beholding  this 
painting.  I  wonder  now  if  it  was  a  painting ! 
There  was  Christ  dead  !  His  beautiful,  pathe- 
tic face  looked  as  if  he  had  suffered,  but 
it  is  now  full  of  spiritualized  peace  and  rest. 
Mary's  sorrowful  face,  at  his  feet,  is  wet  with 
her  falling  tears.  The  loving  and  Beloved  John 
is  near,  and  Magdalen  extends  her  arms  to  take 
the  body  of  her  dead  Master.  These  faces  are 
all  exquisite,  sadly  so,  and  yet  one  seems  to 
see  in  them  an  expression  of  trustfulness,  a 
spiritual  hope,  as  if  they  saw  something 
beyond  the  unspeakable  sadness  of  the  hour. 


LETTER    XIV.  289 

The  figure  of  our  Saviour  is  touchingly  real. 
The  drooping  of  the  precious  head  —  the 
muscles  relaxed  —  it  is  all  Death ;  and  never, 
before  or  since  has  the  great,  sad  tragedy  been 
so  sublimely  told.  The  colors  are  wonderful 
—  rich,  mellow,  and  harmonious ;  and  we  leave 
the  cathedral  with  tears  in  our  eyes,  thinking 
only  of  Christ  crucified,  and  for  us. 

Antwerp,  August   \\th.  —  My  dear : 

My  last  words  to  you  from  a  foreign  land! 
We  are  shopping,  packing,  speaking  our 
adieux,  for  to-day  at  three  P.  M.  the  Nord- 
land  sails,  and  we  turn  our  faces  toward  our 
native  land.  We  are  glad  to  go,  and  we  are 
sorry  to  leave. 


LETTER  XV. 

ON  SHIPBOARD. 

OUR  first  hours  on  board  were  busy  ones, 
making  our  state-room  seem  home-like,  deco- 
rating it  with  little  souvenirs,  and  disposing 
boxes  and  bundles  in  out-of-the-way  corners. 
Placing  in  vases  lovely  flowers,  which  friendly 
hands  had  placed  in  ours,  with  best  wishes  for 
a  ( Bon  voyage.'  As  glimpses  of  the  chalk- 
cliffs  of  England  could  be  caught  in  the 
distance,  we  turned  our  faces  toward  that  shore, 
with  loving  thoughts  of  one  dear  to  us,  whom 
we  leave  on  British  soil.  '  We  were  a-hungered, 
and  he  gave  us  meat;  strangers,  and  he  took 
us  in/  and  God  cares  for  such,  and  He  will 
protect. 

After   a    good   night's  rest,   for  the   next 


292  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

few  days  out  it  seemed  enough  for  us  to  sit 
silent,  as  silent  as  women  can  be,  and  think. 
Think  of  all  the  wonderful  sights  we  had  seen, 
and  carefully  store  them  away  in  memory's 
niche  for  future  enjoyment.  Think,  too,  of 
home  and  the  loved  ones  there,  and  bless  the 
steamer's  big  wheel,  whose  every  turn  carried 
us  nearer  to  them. 

Amongst    our  pleasant   fellow-voyagers  we 

have  Kev.  Mr.  G r,  of   the   <  Old   South ;' 

who  is,  if  not  all  Boston,  a  valued  bit  of  it. 
Prof.  Berlitz  is  also  one  of  us,  and  adds  to  his 
many  accomplishments  a  knowledge  of  fmal 
de  mer '  in  all  languages. 

We  have  had  head  winds,  and  much  stormy 
weather,  but  we  are  glad  to  have  a  chance 
given  us  to  see  old  ocean  in  all  her  varied 
moods,  and  can  scarcely  say  in  which  we  like 
her  best. 

New  York,  America,  August  24:th,  1888. 
— •  On  land  again  !  Our  good  steamer  brought 
us  safely  over.  '  Slow,  but  sure '  was  her 
motto. 

Our  sailing  into  New  York  harbor  at  just 
sunset,  with  the  gorgeous  colors  of  the  western 


LETTER   XV.  293 

sky,  and  the  purest  blue  above  our  heads,  was 
to  us  a  pretty  welcome ;  and,  with  hearts  full 
of  gratitude,  we  joined  voices  in  singing  — 

'  My  country  !  'tis  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  liberty.' 

In  a  few  hours  more  we  shall  be  steaming 
toward  the  dear  old  '  hub '  —  Boston  —  home ; 
and  shall  soon  be  with  you,  dear  mother, 
my  queen  of  queens.  But  our  pleasure  in 
anticipation  is  not  entirely  painless,  for  here 
we  part  with  one  of  our  trio,  whose  kindly 
care  of  us,  for  the  last  few  months,  has  added 
greatly  to  our  happiness. 

Boston,  August  27th.  —  Europe,  in  many 
ways,  is  delightful,  and  the  memories  of  our 
perfect  trip  will  certainly  be  a  joy  to  us 
forever;  but  we  wonder  that  any  Ameri- 
can can  choose  expatriation,  for  we  return 
from  all  the  fascinations  of  the  'other 
side '  —  certainly  enjoyed  and  seen  at  their 
best  —  thanking  God  that  we  are  free  Ameri- 
can citizens.  Some  one  has  said  that '  different 
descriptions  of  the  same  countries  are  ever 
like  old  coats  turned.'  And  George  Mac- 
donald  writes,  '  Fact,  at  best,  is  but  a  garment 


294  A    BUNDLE    OF    LETTERS. 

of  truth,  which  has  ten  thousand  changes  of 
raiment,  woven  in  the  same  loom.'     Many  a 
made-over  article   gives   enjoyment  and   satis- 
faction.    If  my  words  give  these  to  my  readers 
I  am  satisfied. 


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HIERO-SALEM: 

THE    VISION    OK    PEACE. 

A    FICTION    FOUNDED  ON    IDEALS   WHICH    ARK   GROUNDED   IN 

THE  REAL, 

THAT  is  GREATER  THAN  THE  GREATEST  OF  ALL 
HUMAN  GREAT  IDEALS. 

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Symbolically  Illustrated. 

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unquestionably  a  work  of  a  very  high,  if  not  indeed  of  the  first,  order.    What- 
ever may  be  thought    o  f 
its   theories,    ••••••^•^•^^^HHBM^^^^II    — ant*    its 

theories  will    I  H^-M  I    attract>  even 

where  they   I  Ir^^^l  I    failtocor- 

vince,   read-    I  9U       t     IB  I     ers,  — there 

can  be   no    I  Mf  L-"  / m  I    Question    of 

its     great    I  MPB^^^-2/  I  I    Power-       II 

goes  to  the   I   •flEP^yH^/^     •  I    bottom  of 

things,  and    I    RSfcWrlrA  X    ^^  I    stirs  its  read- 


ers  c  o  n- 
to  its  lowest 
Hugo,  and 
Balzac,  an  d 
Richter,  and 
masters  o  f 
heart,  do. 
philosophi- 


scious  ness 
depths,  as 
Sand,  and 
Heine,  and 
all  the  great 
the  human 
Striking 
cal  and  psy- 


chological insight,  marked  originality,  and  intense  vigor  of  attack,  are  among  its 
characteristics.  Those  who  remember  George  Sand's  Count  Albert  will  find  in 
Daniel,  especially  in  the  first  half  of  the  work,  something  akin  to  that  marvel- 
lous creation  of  abstract  wisdom  and  ideal  beauty.  The  general  plan,  too,  of 
the  book,  consisting  as  it  does  of  a  succession  of  apparently  somewhat  unre- 


J.    G- 


CO. 


"  Booksellers, 

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lated  episodes,  which,  however,  at  the  end  are  brought  together,  explained,  and 
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Consuelo.  Charles  A uchester,  doubtless,  will  occur  to  the  minds  of  many,  as, 
we  should  say,  if  the  reference  had  not  become  hackneyed,  will  Robert  Els- 
tnere,  with  which  it  has  much  in  common.  Still,  possessing  qualities  resem- 
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feel  themselves  unable  to  hazard  any  conjecture  with  regard  to  the  popular- 
ity of  this  book.  To  persons  of  cultivation,  experience  and  thoughtfulness, 
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inconsiderable.  They  await  the  verdict  of  critical  and  competent  society  with 
confidence,  and  will  not  be  surprised  if  it  settle  down  to  the  conviction  that, 
on  the  whole,  here  again  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  a  great  work,  worthy  to 
stand  and  live  beside  the  abiding  literary  masterpieces. 

The  author,  evidently  an  earnest  believer  in  the  immortality  of  the  spiritual 
ego,  treats  in  this  work  of  the  endeavor  made  by  a  man  deeply  versed  in  all 
lore  that  deals  with  the  universality  of  the  immaterial  world,  and  the  possibility 
in  this  life  of  the  partial  removal  of  the  sensual  barriers  which  separate  us 
from  it,  to  raise  the  standard  of  physical  and  intellectual  man  by  the  establish- 
ment of  a  new  race  founded  at  the  outset  by  careful  selection  of  two  individuals. 
Many  subjects  of  much  interest  to  many  thinkers  now,  are  introduced  as  an  in. 
tegral  part  of  the  narrative,  —  the  doctrine  of  reincarnation,  the  beliefs  oi 
Esoteric  Buddhism,  even  the  occult  knowledge  acquired  by  the  Kabbalists. 
The  idea,  however,  that  shines  through  all  is  that  behind  these  mere  glimmer- 
ings of  light  there  is  the  splendor  of  the  truth  itself,  of  which  these  are  but  the 
reflections  vouchsafed  to  the  earnest  studies  and  strivings  of  man —  a  deeper 
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"  Hiero-salem  "  will  be  found  to  be  unique  in  manufacture  as  well  as  in  con- 
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AUNT    NABBY:    HER    RAMBi_£S, 

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HER  NOTIONS. 

With    characteristic   illustrations  and  vig- 
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hau^  ^xist^d.  Shtrtjput,  sur^Ig  ht  mag  exclaim, 
as  in  the  gloaming  h^  Contemplates  the  hachs 
of  his  loud  xrn^s, '  iheg  ar^  mine,  and  |  am 
theirs/  " 

Obiter  Dicta. 


THERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A    000110645     9 


